The Clown Prince of Crime (The Joker)
by gothicwh0re
Summary: Doctor Arabella Jones is a new psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum. What will happen when the Clown Prince of Crime-also known as the Joker-arrives at Arkham, and Doctor Jones is selected to be his psychiatrist? And how will the Clown Prince of Crime change Arabella, and everything she is?
1. Chapter 1

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter One-Welcome to Arkham Asylum

~Arabella Jones~

My throat began to swell as I walked through the iron gates that led me to the grey, brick building commonly known as Arkham Asylum. It was my first day, after ten years I was finally able to work as a psychiatrist at Arkham. The Asylum was well known for holding a variety of psychopaths, creeps and people who were just plain crazy.

I had to admit, it made adrenaline pump through my veins ever so slightly. The thought that I could possibly meet and examine such...unique people let alone help them, well it was so unbelievable my eyes widened every time I once again realised that this Asylum would become my work place.

Ever since I was twelve, I had dreamed of growing and evolving into a sophisticated woman that could control a job as wild as being a psychiatrist in Gotham. There was all manner of insane men and women in this city. Just think of Poison Ivy.

Poison Ivy was a woman completely obsessed with those of the plant kind; she would turn one hundred percent psychotic with rage if anyone mistreated a plant. She called them her babies. Poison Ivy's real name was Pamela Isley, but she got the nickname as Poison Ivy for many reasons. Her kiss could kill and she had control over the plants, with the ability to speak and feel with them.

Ivy had red hair that tangled in curls down her back. Her skin was a pale shade of green and she wore a darker shade of green clothing. Her clothing was very little however, only ever covering the main parts of her body. Some days she'd choose to just cover herself with Vines. You could easily say that the woman was one with nature.

Of course, everything I knew was all spread through word; it could all easily be rumours. I had not yet met the woman. Poison Ivy was currently locked up in Arkham, and I was hoping to possibly speak with her and help her one day. Her attitude, the way she spoke or acted or even looked, was unknown to me. All the same, I still looked forward to our first encounter.

Through all the thoughts, I had finally made my way along the paths that led up to the doors of Arkham. Three guards stood at the doors, guns always at the ready-just in case. "I'm Arabella Jones, today is my first day as a psychiatrist." I told the guard who faced forward.

Pulling out my identity card, I handed the piece of plastic over and waited nervously as the man's eyes processed the picture and words. He nodded his head, telling another guard to open up the doors.

The Asylum was shockingly white, each wall pristine clean and possibly sparkled. I slowly made my way down the hall, small heels clicking on the hard floor. My nerves were truly beginning to take over, each leg shaking as they made the next step forward.

Reaching the end of the hallway, I had two possible ways of turning. I knew the basic way around, but from here I was utterly lost. And then appeared a face I was too glad to see. "Ah, Doctor Jones! Welcome, welcome to Arkham!" The overly cheerful man named David Black exclaimed, having spotted me looking lost already.

David Black was also a psychiatrist at Arkham, higher up in the hierarchy than I was of course. He had greeted me with ease when I came for my interview and 'tour' and we had instantly made some form of friendship.

The man was tall, quite lanky in his age. Doctor Black-what an odd sound that had to it- had hair that was greying and there were a few, small wrinkles at the corner of his eyes. I guessed his age to be around forty. Although his appearance seemed to be ageing, the man's personality was definitely not. David was erratic, and if he wasn't able to control his behaviour and didn't mean good at heart, he would be a patient at Arkham.

I smiled politely at the man, feeling my nerves ease slightly. "Please, Doctor Black, could you show me to my office?" He nodded his head furiously, making a gesture with his hand for me to follow. At least, that was what I hoped it had meant.

I followed the aged man through a couple corridors before finally approaching a large, oak door. On a silver plate, written in bold, black letters were the words 'Doctor A. Jones'. "As you can see," said Doctor Black, "this is your office. Here is where you'll go every morning until you have your first appointment. After that you shall return here until your next session or until the end of the day-unless you wish to collect some food or speak to someone importantly." I nodded my head, too busy processing the information to think of words.

I opened the door which led me into a rather large office. A desk sat in the centre of the room, with a stack of files and a computer on it. There were draws underneath the desk that were most likely filled to the brim with extra information. A clock sat on the wall to the right of me and there was a small window on the back wall. Apart from that, the office was pretty bare.

I walked over to the files, eyes scanning the names. "You'll have to personalise the room as time goes on, Doctor. Sadly we cannot give you an easy first day and we've had to put you to work with several cases immediately. My apologies." With that, Doctor Black gave a sympathetic smile and excused himself.

I glanced down at the first file once again, having found that I couldn't remember the name. Harleen Quinzel-commonly referred to as Harley Quinn. I sighed to myself; my first appointment was with the weak minded jester.

Harley Quinn used to be the Jokers therapist, until he manipulated her into falling in love with him. Harleen took on the name of Harley Quinn and went under the disguise of a jester, her outfit accompanying the colours of red and black. The woman was childish and weak minded, after many years of the Jokers abuse she had truly gone insane.

My appointment with her was in ten minutes, they really didn't give you time to settle in before putting you to work. I scanned over the notes of Harley's file. It stated continuously how she refused to accept the fact that the Joker didn't love her, and stayed loyal to the psychotic man no matter what. I planned on changing that.

Collecting her file, a notepad and pen and putting on my white, laboratory coat, I made my way out of the office-locking the door after myself. I wandered down hall after hall, seeing an endless amount of insane people. Eventually I came across Harley's cell which was heavily guarded.

I showed them my badge, explaining that I was Harley's new therapist. The men backed away from the door, and I stepped into the glass cell. I felt the men's eyes on me the whole time. "Good morning Harley, I'm your psychiatrist."

"Yeah, yeah," she spoke in her high pitched tone. The jester flopped lazily onto the seat on the other side of the table. "Hiya!" She said, grinning at me. I sat carefully onto the fabric chair and placed my things onto the desk.

I clicked my black pen and wrote Harley's name at the top of the plain paper. "How ironic this is, a therapist now needing a therapist." I said slowly, raising my eyebrows.

"Girl, I don't even understand why I'm here. I'm perfectly sane, just look at me." I jotted notes down, finding her belief unbelievable.

There was a moment of silence, as I wondered how to word my next sentence. "Harley, let's not waste any time. We both know the reason you're in here is because the Joker drove you to insanity." Something changed in Harley then. Her smile disappeared into a thin line and her hands balled into fists.

"THE JOKER LOVES ME!" Was all she screamed at me before standing up.

The chair fell back from the force of her tantrum. She stomped her foot childishly before turning her back on me. Taking this as my cue to leave, I got up quietly and made my way to the door. "Harley?"

"What?" She snapped at me, glaring daggers.

"We'll be speaking about this again tomorrow." And with that, I left the glass cell.

Back at my office, I placed the notes into Harley's file. I noticed a picture of the woman, all her makeup removed. Her blonde hair was in pigtails, and a green bruise rested on her right cheek. No doubt from the Joker. It showed only her face, which looked tired and aged. I almost felt sorry for the poor woman. But that's what happened when you're weak minded like Harley Quinn.


	2. Chapter 2

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Two-Two Face the two faced man

~Arabella Jones~

After returning to my office after the incident with Harley, I was shocked to find that I had merely an hour before my next appointment. It was with a man I truly feared as well, Two Face. Funnily, the man was insane and two faced because of the Joker. That clown seemed to cause a lot of trouble.

His real name was Harvey Dent, and he used to be one of the most well known and loved men in Gotham. But then the Joker kidnapped him, and Harvey's left side of the face and body got covered in gasoline. There was an explosion, and Harvey got caught on fire. His whole left side was horrifically burned and during his recovery something snapped in him. Harvey turned crazy, and became a cold hearted murderer. He used a coin to decide whether his victims lived or died, and they mostly died.

I carefully picked up the folder that had his name on, expecting it to burst into a ball of flames for some reason. Inside were notes stating the same thing. The man was completely reliant on that silver coin, the coin that decided whether they lived or died. He was obsessed with staying as a two faced monster, even though he could easily afford the surgery.

I collected my things, shoving my badge and a few other bits and bobs in my pockets before making my way to Two Face's cell. I would be ten minutes early, but that was fine. Arriving at the glass cell, I flashed my badge at the guards before entering.

Two Face looked even more terrifying in real life. He was sat in the chair already, staring straight at me with an evil glare. "Harvey Dent, hello." I said politely, taking my seat.

"It's Two Face." He snapped. When he spoke, his mouth twisted oddly.

Harvey looked truly traumatising up close. No eye lid, no lip or cheek or even skin on the left side of his face. It was twisted, raw muscle on show. How was it not painful, or infected? And in his hand, being flipped mindlessly around, was the silver coin. How many lives had that silver coin killed?

I wrote Harvey's name at the top of the pad, like I did for Harley-ignoring his attempt to get me to change it to Two Face. "I am the psychiatrist here Harvey, I am the one in charge." I challenged him with a stern look, of which he returned with a glare. "Let's talk."

"About what?" He replied sarcastically, slouching in his chair.

I decided to take a risk, really pushing the boundaries between us. "How about we have a nice, little chat about the Joker?" I got my pen readied, sitting up in my chair.

"What's there to say, the clown is the bastard behind my disfiguration. He's a nutter, and I'm glad he's locked up here."

"Ah, so they finally got him back in Arkham."

"Delivered by the old Batman himself."

I sighed as I continued writing, my wrist beginning to ache. "You know Harvey, you don't seem too bitter about the Joker."

"You live with it. The Joker killed Rachel, the woman I loved and I'll forever blame him. Batman came for me and not Rachel, and I blame him for that too." I nodded my head, trying to act like I understood.

But there was no way I could understand. I didn't have a disfigured face, I wasn't a murderer and I hadn't lost anyone that I loved like that. "It's time I leave. Nice speaking to you, Harvey." I got up and left the glass cell, unaware whether I had made any progress or not.

I had checked my time table before I left, and so I knew I had another appointment before the end of the day. It wasn't until mid-afternoon-fortunately-and I decided to treat myself to some food. I hadn't had anything to eat or drink since I arrived.

My thoughts wandered to Harvey Dent as I trailed down the corridors. For a man with only half a human face, the love of his life dead, and the person behind all of that being in the same building as him, he seemed quite mutual and calm. Maybe I had just caught him on a good day?

My final appointment for the day was with the one and only Pamela Isley. I was quite thrilled to find that I'd be treating the plant lover. I wondered how she'd act, whether she would be cruel or polite. Whether she would be violent or calm. Whether she was childish like Harley or mature like Harvey.

Some part of me, hidden far away and locked in a cage, wondered if I'd be treating the Joker. A tiny part of that piece of me hoped so, however the rest of the part and the rest of me hoped not. The clown was truly terrifying.

The Joker had sloppy green hair, and a twisted grin that stayed stuck on his face. His lips were blood red, and rumours spoke that he used actual blood. That would be disgusting if true. His skin was pure white, not naturally though-it was grease paint. What forced his mouth into a smile were several scars on each side of his mouth. His eyes were blackened, dripping around his face. It caused his real eyes to look small and dark, and the clown look did seem truly freaky. The thought of seeing it all up close caused my heart to hammer. He'd surely look more horrifying than Harvey.

I collected a basic sandwich and a bottle of water from the food parlour before making my way back to the office. I'd have to bring some things from my apartment to personalise the place I'd be spending a large amount of my time at. Checking the clock on the wall, I saw I had two more hours until my session with Pamela. I was yet to place Harvey's information into his file, and so after I ate the sandwich and drank some water I settled down to do so.

Harvey's file was neatly sorted and filled with quite a bit of information. You could understand him just by reading his notes, but it was quite obvious that the man was mentally ill. In a sane mind, you'd know that you don't have to let a coin make your decisions and you don't have to murder everyone who pisses you off either.

I sighed and closed the file, picking up Ivy's. I would have to get used to the intimidation and frustration of these patients. I was exhausted, and the whole job was mentally and physically exhausting. Poison Ivy's file told me one thing only, all the rumours I had heard were true. She had killed a recent therapist by her kiss and was truly infatuated by plants. She'd kill anyone that harmed a plant of any kind.

Leaving the file where it was, I sat back in my fabric chair and pulled out my phone. I had no messages or calls or anything-nice to know I was popular. There was a soft knock on the door, causing me to jolt in my seat. "Come in." I called politely, wondering who was on the other side.

The door opened, revealing David. I sighed, slouching back into the chair. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I still need to get used to this." I gestured to everything and nothing at the same time, smiling politely at the Doctor. "What brought you here?" There was a moment of hesitation from him, and for a split second I didn't expect an answer.

Doctor Black closed the door, resting his palms on the table. "What I'm about to ask of you is massive, and it's completely fine if you disagree. But I truly believe you can do this. Looking at your grades and...Well you get the point."

"Please, just say what you need to." I said, feeling unable to continue. My session with Pamela was in half an hour, time really flied in the Asylum.

Doctor Black took the pile of folders and began to look through them. I remained silent, truly confused as to what he could possibly want. Maybe he wished to check I was doing what I should? Having found what he needed, David pulled out a file and gently slipped it in front of me.

I glanced down at the folder, and my heart nearly stopped. The Joker-not so commonly known as Jack Napier. What was the Joker's file doing in my pile of patients? "I-I don't understand?" I said with confusion clear in my voice.

"The staff of Arkham believe that you have the potential to take on the Joker. To be a successful psychiatrist and not another Harley Quinn. We have trust in you, Doctor Jones, the trust that you can stay sane and strong against the clown."

I continued to stare from Doctor Black to the file. Me? Be Joker's therapist? But I'd only been working at the Asylum for one day! The man was crazy, how could he know that I was strong enough? Unless..."Doctor Black, I believe we both know the truth here. Arkham needs a therapist for the Joker, who better than the newbie who has no ties to the Asylum? No sentimental needs and values."

Doctor Black was lost for words, simply proving my point that I was right. "And that is exactly why I will take the Joker on as my patient willingly. I'm not that weak, and to be honest I'm offended that you think I am David." I picked up Ivy's file before pushing David out of the door. "Now if you don't mind, I have a patient to see."


	3. Chapter 3

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Three-Pamela Isley or Poison Ivy

~Arabella Jones~

Upon arrival at Pamela's cell, I took my seat for the third time that day. "Doctor Jones, the newbie."

"Good afternoon, Pamela."

"You're defiantly new here; I haven't been called Pamela in years." The green woman slipped into her chair gracefully, placing her elbows on the table.

I mimicked her actions, a small smile on my face. "First day on the job, you're my third patient."

"Oh, who else have you seen today?"

"Harley Quinn and Two Face. They were both very...interesting to speak to." Pamela chuckled lowly, resting back on the chair.

"Look, Doctor Jones, calm the hostility." I raised my eyebrows; I wasn't going to allow her control.

"And why should I do that?" I asked as my curiosity had been sparked.

A grin formed on Ivy's face as she shook her hair a little. "As long as you don't hurt plants, we'll get along just fine. The only reason I'm here is because I'm different, and because I love plants. The plants were here before us, what right do we have to mistreat them?"

"I agree." Pamela stopped in her tracks, staring at me in disbelief. "I respect plants, and this is exactly why we shall be getting along just fine."

There was a small plant pot on the table, and I reached out to stroke the soft petals. It was a flower, with a mixture of pink and blue petals. I had never seen one like it before, and so I was intrigued. "What a beautiful plant." I murmured, sitting back.

"One of my most treasured babies, I grew her myself not long before I got stuck in here, it was all I had when they locked the cell door and threw away the key."

I began to jot down notes, deciding that Pamela was one of the best patients I'd be treating. "I hear you're going to be the Joker's new psychiatrist." My hand failed, the pen scribbled a long line onto the paper before falling from my fingers. I carefully looked up at Ivy, a lump forming in my throat.

"How do you know that?"

"Word spreads like wild fire here in Arkham." I sighed, completely lost for words.

There was a moment of silence. My mind raced wildly. If Pamela knew, then surely the Joker did. What if...what if he decided to take advantage of this new information? I needed to calm my mind, as a psychiatrist I knew all too well what over thinking could do to a stressed mind.

It was official, I was going to be the Joker's therapist and I wasn't the only one aware of this. I clicked my pen and dropped it onto the desk once more. "Ivy, I need to go now. This is the longest talk I've had with a patient which is good. I must put your notes in the file and...well prepare myself for tomorrow." The understanding plant woman nodded her head, getting up from her seat. "Goodbye, Doctor Jones."

"Goodbye, Poison Ivy."

Returning to my office, I placed Ivy's notes in her file. What a day. It was truly exhausting, and working at Arkham was going to be a challenge I'd have to adapt to. Glancing at tomorrow's time table, I saw the Joker was my second patient. So, I was going to be his psychiatrist-whether I liked it or not-from the beginning.

My patient before the Joker was Harley Quinn, well that would be fun to discuss. The jester didn't seem to like me; I wasn't there to be her friend anyway. I knew her and Poison Ivy had a strong friendship connection-as to why, I couldn't tell. If I managed to befriend Pamela then I could manage to tolerate Harley.

Luckily I didn't have Two Face again tomorrow, I had seen enough today to fill in for tomorrow. After the Joker I'd have the rest of the day free, and I'd be using that time to sort out my office and prepare myself for the next day. I had always been overly organised for as long as I could remember.

As I roamed the streets of Gotham, many people pushed past me. The majority of the citizens were rude, but it was something you got used to after a couple years of living at Gotham. What was important was not allowing the rudeness to infect you, and not allowing yourself to become the average Gotham citizen.

Glancing up at the sky to see it a dark shade of blue already, I also spotted the Bat signal. The dark silhouette of a large bat lit up the sky, which was surprisingly not very cloudy. Someone in this troubled city was in need of our vigilante, the vigilante that nobody wanted around.

It was quite stupid, the fact that it was obvious that Gotham was in need of a saviour and yet nobody wanted our only hero around. Shaking my head, I continued on my way to my apartment. My home was rather dull, I had recently moved there a couple years ago after passing college with a degree.

There wasn't much at my apartment, the basic clothing and sanitary things. I wasn't poor; I had a decent television along with other luxuries. I unlocked my door, slamming it shut afterwards. I needed to move closer to Arkham, my feet were killing and my legs burned.

Flicking on the light switch to the living room, I froze on the spot. Sat on my sofa, legs folded neatly while she held all the jewellery I owned in her clawed hands was Catwoman. The woman wore a tight fitted, black all in one with stiletto heels. The clothing connected to a hood that flapped over her head and onto her face. Small cat ears were on top of her head, pointed razor sharp.

She purred lowly in her throat, swinging a few necklaces on her fingers. "Sorry to just...drop in like this." She hissed, a smirk playing at her blood red lips. "But I needed a present for a hard day's work." I remained silent, and watched completely frozen as she got up and slid out of the window.

My mouth hung agape, hands trembling as everything finally processed. "Cat. Woman!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, furious that the sly thing had taken all of my jewellery. Some of that came from my grandmother and great grandmother, it was worth a fortune. And that was why she took it.

Throwing my fists in the air, I dropped my things on the floor before going to the window that Catwoman came through. Before closing, I took a moment to breathe in the cool air. That god damn Cat, always stealing other people's things. Some of us had to work to earn money to buy the property she stole!

Sighing, I closed the window and made my way to my room. I needed at least ten hours sleep so that I could cope through tomorrow. Harley Quinn and the Joker...at least it would be entertaining. They only had a ten minute gap as well.

At least tomorrow, I'd finally be meeting the Clown prince of Crime. It would be truly...unforgettable.


	4. Chapter 4

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Four-Intimidation is the key

~Arabella Jones~

I sat across from the bouncing, blonde jester. She had chosen not to wear her hat today, and I was to ask why soon. At the moment, I was stuck in a glare war with Harley and my stubbornness wouldn't allow me to loose.

It was me being stubborn that got me through school when I was being horrifically bullied-just for being different. It was me being stubborn that made me never have a day off, my attendance was one hundred percent-completely immaculate. It was me being stubborn that had gotten me here, in Arkham, doing what everybody said I couldn't. I wasn't going to stop being stubborn just because some jester didn't like me.

Without breaking eye contact, I leaned forward, well aware that my next words could cause two very different scenes. "You know Harley; my next patient after you is the Joker." I said slowly, a polite and intimidating smile on my face.

There was a small, sick part of me that liked control. That liked to prove to others that I had more power than them, and to make it hurt while I was at it. I tried to hide it, but when you're a therapist it's an uncontrollable sin. I had been that way for a long time, and I couldn't quite remember what age I was when it first happened.

But I remember it clearly. Pinning the boy who had tried to hit me onto the ground, bending down close so that my mouth was right by his ear. "I am in control." I had hissed at the quivering idiot. "Do not make me hurt you." A teacher had dragged me off of the boy then. But when I looked back and saw tears glistening down his cheeks, the power I felt was something so mesmerising and addictive...it was bound to happen again.

The jester's eye contact failed, and she scanned around the room as if hoping to find some form of proof that I was lying. "Oh." Was all she said, her voice weak and quiet. I nodded my head.

"I didn't ask for it, and I had no choice. But what's done is done, and now I'm stuck as the Joker's therapist."

Harley looked down, and I caught her twirling her thumbs. "If you wouldn't mind, Doctor Jones, I'd like to be left alone now." Getting up from my seat, I collected my stuff and left without a word. Halfway down the hall, I heard a high pitched scream and something crash and bang. At least she had gotten me out of the cell before she had her tantrum, progress.

Back in my office, I simply switched Harley's file for the Joker's. I'd have to sort out the notes, along with all the things I had brought in that morning, later. I hadn't had time to read through his file, and so I was going to the Joker's cell completely blind. Not my smartest move.

If I thought Harley's cell was heavily guarded, then it was nothing compared to the Joker's. I had to show my badge to all the guards and give them someone they could speak to for proof that I was a psychiatrist before I could even enter. I gave them David Black's name.

Eventually I made it in, and my stomach knotted tight. The Joker sat at the table, hands on his knees as he leaned forward slightly. His eyes followed me the whole time as I made my way to my seat and sat down. With trembling hands I put my things down on the desk, breathing deeply. "Arabella."

My heart stopped, how did he know my name? I hadn't told any other patients my full name and I doubted the guards would tell him. "How do you know my name?" I asked, too quickly for my own good. I stared into the Joker's dark eyes, and he stared back into my light grey ones.

"Oh, doll, I have people on the inside. I know more about you than you think I do."

I was truly on the verge of having a panic attack, I thought Two Face was bad but he was nothing, nothing, compared to the Joker. "Okay, Joker. You're going to listen to me and you're going to listen well." My voice was strong and shocking courageous compared to how I felt. My tone seemed to catch the Joker's attention, as his back straightened and he smiled wilder than he already was. My need for control, it was all happening again-all of it.

"Okay, Doc." He said, licking his lips like he did out of habit.

"I am the therapist, and so I am in control here. I don't want you thinking that you can run this cell, because I don't want you...heart broken."

The Joker cackled loudly, flopping back into his chair as he clutched at his stomach. "You got fire." He said, laughing still. He pointed his finger at me, and like that his laughter died. "I like that." He nodded his head, green hair falling onto his face. "Oh I like that a lot."

I clicked my pen and began to write. Everything that had just happened got scratched down onto the plain, white paper. I decided to change the subject, feeling a lot more timid and scared on the inside. The adrenaline was rapidly running from my veins, leaving my hand a shaking mess. "I saw Harley this morning; she's a patient of mine."

"What makes you think I care?" I was momentarily taken aback but the Joker's bluntness.

It was going to be hard, cracking through the Joker's thick shell. "She still thinks you love her. The woman is crazy about you, and she doesn't seem able to process the fact that you feel nothing for her."

"Harley is a psychotic bitch; she doesn't care what she does to anyone as long as she thinks it will impress me. She's a screw up. But she's useful, a good distraction from time to time."

I nodded my head, too scared to look down in case the Joker tried anything. "Hey doll, wanna know how I got these scars?" I shook my head, waving my hand at him.

"Joker, I know your stories." I flipped the notepad closed and clicked my pen. I dropped both of the things on the table.

"You intrigue me, Arabella. You see, I see a little crazy in you. And coming from me, that obviously means something."

Obviously satisfied with his statement, the Joker leaned forward, grinning at me. "While training in psychiatry, I learned one important thing. Wanna know what that is?" The Joker raised his eyebrows, thick black patches leaked over his pale brows and onto his forehead. I leaned in closer, my voice dropped to just a whisper. "Everyone is crazy."

I got up from my chair then, officially finished with our session. "I'll be back whenever our next appointment is, Joker." I told him, collecting my things and walking to the cell door.

"It's been lovely meeting you, Arabella doll." He said with a cackle as I left the glass cell.

It was true, although I had the ability to act strong and brave in front of such an intimidating man, I was honestly terrified of our next meeting. He was unpredictable, and his howling laughter was haunting. I was sure I could still hear it as I made my way back to the office, each hallway looking the same.

Back at my office, I made sure to lock the door. Something in me was petrified, why was my paranoia starting up so suddenly? Shaking my head and praying for my thoughts to clear, I began to wander around my office. I wanted to start decorating, but some part of me was expecting to find the Joker hidden in my office.

Taking a deep breath, and rubbing over my face in frustration, I began to lecture to myself as I started unpacking a few things. Talking to yourself helped you concentrate and allowed information to process. I'd have to write down the Joker and Harley Quinn's notes after decorating.

I put up a note board, and pinned pictures of things I admired onto it. I pinned a picture of me when I was younger onto the board, just for the fun of it. I pinned a couple reminders to the board as well before moving on. As vain as it seemed, I put up a body length mirror. I needed to know I looked presentable without having to check through my phone. I had one last thing after that, a book that I had carried with me ever since I was fourteen. It was old and battered, and barely readable but I kept it with me, and I'd keep it with me for as long as I could.

I decided that it was time for me to return home. So after locking up my office, I began the long walk to my apartment. But I couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching me.


	5. Chapter 5

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Five-Would you like to go on a…date?

~Arabella Jones~

I had officially been working over one whole week at Arkham, and I still had my sanity. I tapped my biro pen on the wooden desk mindlessly as I waited for several minutes to pass so that I could visit my next patient. Other than Harley, Pamela, Two Face and the Joker, I had one other patient: Scarecrow. Leaving me with a total of five patients.

Scarecrow was terrifying, and completely insane. Unlike the Joker or Harley Quinn-who had a method and an understanding to their madness, Scarecrow was completely irrational and crazy. There was no logic in what he did. What's even more frightening was that he used to work in Arkham as a top psychologist.

His real name was actually Jonathan Crane, and if he wasn't insane I'd most likely feel attracted to him. He was okay looking for an...older man. But Jonathan started developing a gas commonly known as 'fear gas' which sent its victims into a severe state of fear. It could push them into insanity just by showing them their true fear under a high dosage, and it's one of the world's most toxic and deadliest weapons.

Doing this project sent Jonathan crazy, and so he came to be Scarecrow. He wore a fabric, potato sack material, scarecrow mask. It wasn't stitched together very well, so it made the face look twisted and contorted. That just made Scarecrow seem even more terrifying.

I had a lot of patients that needed treating today. It was half past eight in the morning, which meant that I was exhausted from having to get up early and then walk all the way here for twenty past eight. I had another ten minutes before my first session.

My first patient was Poison Ivy, which I didn't mind treating as the woman was logical and fair. As unprofessional as it sounded, a friendship could mostly likely develop between us. After that I was to treat Two Face once more, and although his face and attitude was shocking at first, you adjusted to it and I no longer felt any fear around him. He wasn't happy about that. Once that was done, I'd have one more patient before lunch break-the Joker.

After a total of two sessions with the man, my fear of him only seemed to have gotten worse. Even though he was yet to attack or threaten me, the eerie way he sat in his chair, how calm and controlled the man was, making me have to expect the unexpected-it was driving me crazy. Not literally.

I had a lunch break after that, and then my last appointment would be with Scarecrow. No Harley today then. Not one part of me was excited for my meeting with Scarecrow, and I was going to have to do my research on him. I wasn't walking into a session blind once again.

As for the scenario with Catwoman that happened not so long ago when she broke into my apartment and stole all of my precious jewellery, well it was yet to be solved. I hadn't seen the Cat ever since, and I was praying I didn't. My things cost money; I had to work very hard for it. I wouldn't just freeze this time either, heck I'd probably call for the old Batman himself.

Shaking my head to rid myself of the bitter thoughts, a knock on the door almost made me scream. "Who is it?"

"Professor Harrison." Replied the knocker, causing me to sigh in relief and relax back into my chair.

Professor Harrison was an attractive man in his mid-twenties. He had that not so common yet quite handsome look of short, bright blonde hair with vibrant baby blue eyes. Pale skin, pink cheeks that were naturally contoured and the whole supermodel look, Professor Nick Harrison really didn't look like he belonged in a place like Arkham.

We got on rather well, in a mutual friendship kind of way. Professor Harrison and I would mindlessly chat when getting food or walking around when insanely bored. He had told me about how he first came across the idea of being a psychiatrist, telling me about how he always tried to guide people the right way-even when they seemed hopeless. It was...sweet.

"Come in." I called, taking several deep breaths. What Professor Harrison wanted from me, I didn't know. Nick was called Professor instead of Doctor as he also specialised in Science, and was a major in biology. He had done a decent amount of research on the human brain, body and heart, it was quite interesting to talk and learn about.

Professor Harrison came into my office hesitantly before closing the door. He turned back around and placed his hands on my desk, leaning in close. On pure instincts, I leaned back into my chair slightly. "There's no denying it Doctor Jones, there's this...this raw connection between us. I know it; I feel it when I speak to you." His words were slow, careful and filled with passion.

I didn't know what to do, the way he spoke was calm and smooth and almost seductive yet his words were...obsessive. If you had just been able to understand the words, you'd think he'd be speaking in a harsh or angry tone. I was left utterly speechless for a minute or two.

I finally stood up from the desk, but Professor Harrison still towered over me. "Professor Harrison-"

"Nick, please call me Nick." I nodded my head, clearing my throat before carrying on.

"Nick, I've only known you a week. I-you can hardly say that there is anything serious between us I mean-"

"Please, Arabella, would you like to go on a date?"

Lost for words-again-my mouth hung open in a small 'o' as my brain scrambled for something to say. "How do you know my name?" I replied finally as I didn't remember telling him.

"Oh, I overheard Doctor Black calling you that and a few other people." I stared hard at Professor Harrison for a few seconds, but gave up after not being able to find any signs that the man was lying.

I took a deep breath, knowing that what I was about to say was most likely too fast for my own health. "Okay, I'll go on a...date with you." When I said the word 'date', I made small speech mark gestures, telling Nick that I didn't feel like it was a date at all. Nick nodded his head, beaming a wide smile.

"I'll see you at eight tonight then, at the restaurant around the corner." I nodded my head, curious as to why he wouldn't tell me the name of the restaurant.

I wasn't sure I liked secretive men after all. Shaking away the thoughts, I got one last glimpse of Professor Harrison before he left my office, closing the door politely. With only two minutes left before my session with Pamela, I found her file-I really needed to clean my desk, it looked like a bomb had hit it-and shoved my pen and pad into my overly large pockets.

I knew the way to Ivy's cell practically off by heart by now, and as I wandered the halls I tried my hardest not to think about Nick. There was no way in hell he could possibly have any form of attraction towards me. I was plain, ordinary.

My hair was this weird shade between blonde and brown, nobody could quite tell as it changed more towards one colour in different types of light. My eyes were grey normally, but in sunlight they turned a brilliant blue and naturally went more green or brown towards the pupil. My skin was naturally tanned as I had grandparents from other, hotter countries and I had the basic, slightly curved body size. Nothing special, just weird on occasions.

Chuckling to myself as I approached the guards, I flashed them my badge-unnecessarily-before entering the cell. "Morning, Ivy." I greeted the plant lady with a warm smile.

"Morning, Doc."

"I think we've gotten to the point where you can call me by my first name, so call me Arabella. Or...something shorter if you wish."

Ivy smiled kindly at me, obviously grateful to me for being less hostile. I briefly remembered her saying that on our first meeting that I needed to dial down on the hostility. I chuckled again, shaking my head when Pamela shot me a questioning look. "So, how are you today?"

"I'm missing my plants, and I hate feeling their pain as people kill more and more every day. It's like this sensation of pure, hot pain, just running through a certain part of a different body part each time. Hard to explain, and I haven't done a very good job."

"No, no, it's fine." I reassured her, scribbling away. My hand began to burn as the blood in it started running out of oxygen.

Clicking my pen and dropping it on the table, I clasped my hands together and felt the tension in the room thicken. "Okay Ivy, what are you hiding from me?"

"What?"

"Now, now, don't play innocent. You're too...overly polite. You keep shifting in your seat and the look of guilt on your face is obvious. Oh, and your conscience is playing up, that's why you felt like your explanation wasn't good enough. You've been lying, you're hiding something, now you better speak before I tell the guards you've got some form of evil plan."

All of the colour had drained from Ivy's green face as she sat rigid in her chair. "Bella...please..." I shook my head, getting up.

"I value what we have, but it seems that you don't. I'll speak to you when I see you next, Ivy. And don't worry, I won't be talking to the guards, I'm not like that."

I left Pamela's cell after that, returning to my office so that I could change her file for Two Face's. I roamed the halls, finding my way to my office as I trailed my fingers along the pristine, white walls. Everything was so white in Arkham...so clean and pure for a place that held so much murder and insanity.

A pang hit my stomach once again as the thought of me being in a restaurant...on a date...with Professor Nick Harrison. Well, at least it would be eventful. Shaking my head for the hundredth time that day, I collected Two Face's file, left Pamela's notes on top of her file on my desk, and began making my way to Harvey Dent's cell. Everything seemed to be becoming routine, I wished something...interesting would happen soon. But in an Asylum, maybe that wasn't the smartest idea in the world.


	6. Chapter 6

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Six-Panic Attack

~Arabella Jones~

Harvey Dent wasn't in the mood for my patronising words or sarcastic comments; I found that out the second I sat down across from the Two Faced man. "I don't even want you to speak to me." He concluded, obviously the man was in a foul mood today. I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Harvey-" I was cut off by a quick glare from him, the words died dramatically in my throat.

My lips pressed themselves into a thin line, hands tightening into fists. "No. Okay, Harvey, no, I am the psychiatrist, don't make me give you the same lecture as I did the Joker." I raised my head and straightened my back. It was said that making yourself look more...dominating had a fearing effect on the person you were trying to...dominate.

Harvey sat up, leaning close to my face. I tried not to cower, but couldn't help leaning backwards a little. "Get out." He snarled, lip twisting upwards. Taking in another deep breath, I got up and simply walked out. The session was only five minutes long, but there was no way I could possibly get through to Two Face when he was in that kind of mood.

I had what was commonly known as a 'short fuse'. My temper was bad, and it didn't last very long either. When it got to boiling point, the results could sometimes be disastrous. It was best I left the cell and calmed myself before visiting the Joker. I wasn't sure I could tolerate any more psychopaths today without breaking down.

Slamming Harvey's file down on my oak desk, I scrambled for the Joker's with trembling fingers. Maybe my mental stability wasn't good enough for this job? No, I wasn't going to let one bad session get to me. Straightening my posture and 'pulling myself together', I took one final deep breath before leaving my office. That room was becoming way too familiar.

The Joker's cell was the furthest to walk to out of all of my patients. I strolled through the halls, my shoes not making a sound on the hard flooring. I got fed up of constantly hearing heels clicking against the tiles, it was driving me nuts. I was coming across the last corner when I heard cackling which was unmistakably the Jokers.

Hurrying to make my way to his cell, I watched completely entranced as the clown simply sat there, at his desk, switching between laughing hysterically and grinning widely. "Someone's in a good mood." I noted as I entered the glass cell, shoving my badge back into my pocket.

"Started as soon as he heard that you were on your way." Called one of the guards, their voice slightly muted from the thick glass.

I looked curiously at the Joker, to see him gazing back at me. "What can I say? I've been looking forward to our session, doll." He said slyly, causing a shiver to run down my spine.

"Now, now, Jack. Let's not get ahead of ourselves." I told him, sliding into my seat. He gave me a pointed look, telling me that he'd do whatever he wanted.

"Doll, it'd do you good not to call me Jack again."

I flicked through several different pages, finally coming to a clean one. I clicked my pen and put it back down on top of the note pad before raising my eyebrows at the clown. His war paint was beginning to come off, the white smudging at his forehead and cheeks. His blackened eyes trickled down his cheek bones and almost reached his jaw. Although the redness of his lips faded over the scars, it remained pure on his actual lips from the amount of times he licked them out of habit.

The Joker rolled his shoulders, laying back into the chair. "So what's it today, Doc? Childhood? Future expectations? Give anything a try." He ran his fingers through his messy green hair, dragging his hands down his face afterwards-smudging even more of his clown make-up. I held back a giggle as I saw the after effects.

"I was thinking that today could be your turn. Let's try something new, yeah? You ask me the questions, I'll still find out enough information about you."

Obviously taken aback by my suggestion, the Joker slid his chair back before recollecting himself once more. "Okay, doll." He elongated the 'l's as he stood up from his seat. My heart immediately began to pound in my chest as I realised I could've sent him the wrong signals.

My whole body tensed as he made his way towards me, somehow unable to walk in a straight line. He didn't wear his thick, purple coat so his body was left covered by purple trousers, a blue, hexagonally patterned shirt and a green waistcoat. His tie was gone, and his top button undone, his sleeves were also rolled up just above his elbows. His shoes were black, patent and in surprisingly good shape.

My lungs nearly failed and my heart almost exploded as the Joker placed both hands on my shoulders, stroking his thumbs along each shoulder. "Doc, why so serious?" He said lowly, voice right by my ear. "Relax, you're so tense." No matter how hard I tried, my body remained rigid. The Joker pressed his thumbs harder against my shoulders as he trailed his hands closer to my neck.

I swallowed the lump that was forming in my throat, and my eyes widened as his hands cupped my neck. "Tell me this Doc, why are you so afraid?" His fingers tightened around my fragile neck and I was on the verge of having a panic attack. In a split second decision, and out of pure, heated fear, I dug both elbows back, one hitting the clown in the chest and the other landing squarely on his gut. They were surprisingly...well worked.

The Joker gasped, and fell back as he doubled over and clutched his stomach. I quickly got up and sprinted around the Joker and out of the cell. Before I slammed the door, I turned around. "That's why you fucking psycho." I told him in a hard voice and shoved the cell door closed. My chest was heaving as I couldn't seem to get enough air into my lungs. My eyes were blurred with tears which I refused to allow to escape.

I waved away the guards concern for me, promising them I'd be okay as soon as I was calm. I heard the Joker laughing hysterically as I rushed back to my office, unable to shake the feeling of his fingers trailing up my throat before clenching hard around my neck, cutting off the air. The skin tingled still from the sensation of his shockingly smooth fingers trailing softly over my skin.

I leaned against my office door, but couldn't avoid falling to my knees as I lost the feeling in my legs from lack of oxygen. I kept on gasping in deep breaths, my throat becoming raw and my voice rising into a high pitched, near scream. My hands clutched my head desperately as I tried to get the laughter of the Joker out of my brain. The room was darkening, as my eyesight blurred. I couldn't breathe, I just couldn't breathe.

When I opened my eyes again, it took me several attempts of blinking before I could see clearly. The light in the room was harshly bright, and it made me cower back into the darkness of the bed sheets. Wait, these were my bed sheets. Those were the same walls in my room. How did I get back at my apartment?

I bolted upright, to see a dark figure in the doorway. He had pointed ears and I could only see the skin of the jaw and mouth, everything else was covered in thick, solid and black armour. There was an engraving of a bat on his chest, and it was then I knew how I got back home. "Please...what happened?" I called out just as the Batman was beginning to turn away.

"You passed out," he replied in his lowly, gravelly voice. "Doctor Black and Professor Harrison pulled you out of Arkham and I was...passing by. I saw you; they asked me to take you home. That's how you got here." He turned away then, and started walking out of the doorway.

"Thank you!" I shouted, hoping he would hear me.

"It was a quiet night anyway." He replied, and like magic, Batman was gone.

Everything processed for me then. I had, had a panic attack and had passed out outside my office, leaving me defenceless and an open victim for anyone. And then Batman had brought me back here. How...how did he know where I lived? I shook my head violently, desperate to shake the frightful thoughts from my racing mind.

I fell back down against the soft pillows, but I couldn't sleep. There was no way I'd be sleeping anytime soon after today. However, I wasn't going to allow today's event to push me off track of my career. One bad day, tomorrow will be better. It struck me then that, due to my unconsciousness, I was unable to treat Scarecrow. I had too many unanswered questions for my own sanity about Scarecrow, Batman and the men at Arkham who had supposedly 'helped' me.

Not only was I unable to visit Scarecrow, but I had missed mine and Professor Harrison's dinner date. Some small part of me was disappointed that I had missed it, but-to be completely honest-the majority of myself was relieved that I had missed it. I was put purely on the spot, and the more I had thought about it that day, the less sense it made. I hoped Professor understood and didn't think that I'd stood him up; he did apparently help me outside along with Doctor Black so he must've known that I wasn't going to turn up.

I ended up tossing and turning, throwing the thick duvet off of my body and then pulling it back on with force, getting so frustrated with the inability to sleep that I ended up chucking the pillows across the room only ending up having to creep through the darkness to collect them again. Some part of me wanted to scream in pure frustration and the other part of me wanted to burst into tears.

I was exhausted, mentally and physically, and when the morning sun began to rise, I dragged myself out of bed for a hot shower and several cups of coffee. How I was going to manage throughout the day, I didn't know at all. I knew that I was only to treat Harley Quinn, the Joker and Scarecrow which was a step down from yesterday's patients but they were all super crazy and practically intolerable.

Shaking my head and slapping my cheeks to wake myself up, I stepped out of my clothes; thankfully Batman had left me in my work clothes and I had changed myself into my sleep wear while unable to sleep. The warm water was sheer bliss as it ran down my back, leaving goosebumps all over my body. Hopefully, I could wake myself up enough to for today's patients. Something told me, however, that today was the interesting day I had been craving. Whether that was good or bad, I didn't know. It couldn't be good in Arkham.


	7. Chapter 7

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Seven-Getting to know Arabella and meeting Scarecrow

~Arabella Jones~

I dropped Harley's files down on the plastic desk in front of me, falling down onto the seat with a sigh. "Oh Doc, you don't look so good." The jester commented, frowning enthusiastically like a toddler. I shook my head, holding the bridge of my nose for a second.

"Rough night, Harley." I clicked my pen before positioning it so that it hovered over the paper. "Let's talk about your childhood today." I continued, quickly changing the subject.

Harley sat forward, the tails of her red and black jester hat moving about as her head shook. "What's there to say?" She shrugged her shoulders, making her face look overly innocent. "I had stupid aspirations, but I'm glad I became a psychiatrist at Arkham. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have met my Puddin'." I nodded my head, scribbling away.

Before the Joker manipulated Harley, the jester had high expectations for her life. Sad, truly.

I closed the notepad before collecting my things. "I think that's enough for today, Harley. I'll see you whenever." I got up from my seat, pushing it under the desk. We both remained silent as I made my way out, but I felt her watching me the whole time. A shudder ran down my spine as I turned the corner from her cell, fighting the temptation to look back.

My next patient was the Joker, and like I always did, I only had a ten minute gap before seeing him. After yesterday's events, I had no idea what everything would be like between us. Awkward? Or more...intense? On our first meeting, he had told me that he 'has men on the inside', meaning that he would most likely know about what he had pushed me to yesterday. There was a high chance that he'd mention that in today's session.

I didn't even bother to check the time or myself in the mirror, I simply dropped Harley's file and left. I didn't need the Joker's file; it wasn't hard to forget anything about the man. I began the ankle aching walk to his cell, and my thoughts raced at the possibilities of what could happen once I had stepped into the glass cell. Would he attack me again? Or would he remain mutual and calm like in other meetings? Our...relationship would defiantly be different after yesterday's events, it was unavoidable.

Time passed quicker when you were lost in thought, this came to me as I rounded the last corner and came face to glass cell with the Joker. I stopped in my tracks, as what I was seeing was extraordinary. The Joker sat in his usual seat, but instead of staring into space, the clown was scribbling away at the paper. His hands made long swirls as he pulled and pushed the pencil so that it left a mixture of lines and shades on the paper.

I approached quietly, trying to go unnoticed so that the clown didn't stop drawing. I stood outside the cell, just watching. It was clear what the picture was now, a semi-automatic shot gun. What looked like long, graceful glides from afar turned out to be jagged and violent lines. However, it was still fascinating to know that the clown had rather good talent in drawing. That was something that wasn't in his file. "I know you're there, Doll." My heart skipped a beat, but it soon smoothed back into rhythm as the Joker looked up at me.

I decided to make a move into the cell, speaking as soon as the door was opened. "I was...intrigued. I never thought someone like you would draw. Although you have drawn a semi-automatic shot gun, it's still quite fascinating to watch."

"You know your guns, I'm impressed." He chuckled lowly in his throat, a small nod of appreciation barely recognisable, but still there.

I sat in silence for a minute, just taking in the Joker's presence. His make-up was freshly applied today, no runaway trails or skin showing. I wandered how he got his greasepaint, maybe that was the one thing they allowed him? The Joker drummed his fingers on the table, licking his lips every so often. "I heard about what happened yesterday." He said at last, and I felt all the blood drain from my face as my stomach dropped. I knew it; I knew he'd mention it.

"O-oh really?" I stuttered; that wasn't good. Damn my inability to remain calm around the clown.

A minute passed, and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat so that my elbows rested on the table. "I feel...bad." My eyes widened, this was new. This was...really unexpected. "I feel bad about making you feel like that. When I heard about you...I felt so sad and mad. At myself though. And then I heard that the Batman rescued you...and I just felt...angry. Really angry. And I don't understand, these are feelings I haven't felt for so many years...I don't understand."

I wanted to reach out, to comfort the psychotic clown. The thought was so...out there that I almost choked. Instead, I sat back calmly and flipped open the notepad. But, before I could write, the paper was shoved off of the table, flying at such force that it hit the only brick wall. My head snapped up to see a not so happy Joker glaring at me. "No!" He shouted, fists trembling. "No, no, no."

I raised my hands in a surrender gesture, and put the pen back down on the desk. "I-I...I don't want anyone else to know. This...this conversation is between you and me, doll." I nodded my head, my whole body stayed rigid in the seat-just like yesterday.

"You know, the events from yesterday should've made me not want to ask this of you again, but I'm curious as to how you'll act knowing the effect your actions had on me. So shoot, ask me questions."

The Joker twirled the pencil in his fingers, his tongue trailing over his red lips. "Tell me, Doc, why work here? Work at Arkham?"

"I'm one of those people. I like exotic, I crave the crazy people. You see, you'll find that I have a not so common interest in people who aren't commonly liked because they're different. Take Poison Ivy, all these 'normals' hate her because she's different, but I gave her a chance because she's different, and she's actually good. You've just got to respect her plants."

"Why do you give people chances?"

I thought this question over, not sure how to word it. "Everyone deserves a chance or two. And that's as complicated as it gets." The Joker nodded his head, obviously satisfied with his new information.

"What do you fear?" I remained silent for a moment, unsure as to why he wanted to know. I decided that I could trust him in the end.

"Ironically, I have an irrational fear of clowns. But I don't fear them the same way I fear you. You're...different."

I left it there, refusing to explain any further.

The Joker tilted his head to the side slightly, as if trying to get a better angle of me. "Arabella, I bet there's more to you than you let on."

"Jack, I bet there's more to you than you let on." I got up from my seat to collect the pad that the clown had thrown across the room. My heart started pounding and stomach twisted as his words played over in my head once more.

I bent down to collect the pad, and carefully stood back up so that I didn't lose my balance. As I turned to face the Joker once again, I found that he was in fact stood up and leaning against the wall next to me instead of sat down. "Sly thing." I muttered under my breath as my heart rate slowed.

"I try my best." That made me laugh, harder than it should have. I caught the Joker looking at me curiously; it was most likely the first time he'd made someone laugh-naturally.

When I reached the cell door, I turned around once more to face the Joker. "Until next time, Joker."

"Until next time, Doll." He replied, now sat back in his seat, staring right at me. Something had changed between the Joker and I, things were different. And the words he had said to me...'I feel bad about making you feel like that. When I heard about you...I felt so sad and mad.' They had sounded foreign coming from his mouth, but still, he had spoken them...to me.

I headed for my final patient of the day, Jonathan Crane. My whole body was still buzzing and my mind was still racing after the session with the Joker, and I had to take a minute to calm myself before entering Scarecrow's cell. A couple questions circled my brain as I approached the cell and showed the guards my badge. What would Scarecrow be like? Would he have any stored fear gas anywhere? I was terrified to enter the cell.

It was deadly silent as the door closed behind me, and I felt Jonathan's heavy gaze shift over and onto me as I sat in my seat. "I was so disappointed that you missed our appointment yesterday. Fancy telling me why?" His voice was cool, calm and classically collected, but I wasn't fooling for it.

"Well, I'm here now. And let's not live in the past, Jonathan." I twirled my pen around in my fingers, my eyebrows raised mockingly at Scarecrow.

Crane leaned in close, face inches from mine. I didn't flinch, as I could see his hands where strapped around him by the mental health, asylum jacket. I wondered why the Joker didn't have his arms strapped so that they were unusable. "Tell me, Doctor, what do you fear?" I sat back in my seat then, unsure whether to answer him or not. He was the second person to ask me that question today.

My mouth opened, but someone else cut me off. "I wouldn't if I was you." I turned to see one of the guards facing us, a mean glare on his face as he concentrated himself and his gun on Scarecrow. "He's...intelligent. Don't tell him what you fear, because you'll end up in here with him." I glanced back at Crane to see him pouting like a little baby.

"You always ruin all my fun." He said, rolling his eyes. "I'm done; I'm bored of you, Doctor. You're not much fun at the moment, but you will be soon." He shot me a playful wink, which I returned with a confused look.

Brushing it off, I got up from my seat and simply walked out of the cell. The session was more...boring and short than I had expected and I was grateful for the guard stepping in a stopping me from making the mistake of telling Scarecrow what I feared most. But what did he mean when he said that I'd be fun soon?

I made my way back to my office, needing to put all my notes into my patient's files before having some time to think and...relax. Not everything would be going into the Joker's file though; a certain conversation would be left out of the Joker's notes. Maybe it wasn't the smartest idea of mine, but I felt I owed the Joker at least that, he had trusted me to open up about how he felt and so I was going to repay him by doing what he wanted to so badly avoid, and left the conversation out of the Joker's file. Now, we were even...But were we really?


	8. Chapter 8

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Eight-Catwoman and rumours

~Arabella Jones~

The bat signal shone in the sky as my burning feet pushed me closer and closer to my apartment. Today had been hard, and I couldn't shake these new feelings I had for the Joker. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't falling in love with the clown but I...didn't feel the same as I did when I first met him. And now that I'd seen how he could possibly feel, after what he told me today...it had changed everything.

Attempting to shake the Joker from my thoughts, I sighed in relief as I put the key into the lock of my apartment door. Thank God, I was far too glad to be home. What had Scarecrow meant, when he said that I'd be fun soon? Was something going to happen? Whatever it was, it couldn't have been good if Scarecrow was looking forward to it.

Kicking the door closed, I flicked on the lights and dropped my bags to the floor with a loud thump, I should be more careful of the contents inside really. When I turned around so that I could walk further in, a familiar dark silhouette hovered on the inside of my window. Not again. "If you've stolen anything I swear to god-"

"No, no. I came to talk." She purred right back at me, coming into the light.

I stepped closer to Catwoman, crossing my arms over my chest. "Something's happening. I know it; word spreads fast in the criminal underground." Criminal underground...was that a real place? "They say something is to happen in Arkham, a big thing. Something that is to change the history of Arkham Asylum forever." The tall black figure turned and sauntered back over to the windowsill.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm no hero, and I'm not going to explain further. Miss Jones, you're a smart girl, you can figure this out for yourself."

The cat lady pushed the window up and out of her way. "I heard Batman rescued you the other day." She remained over on the windowsill as she waited for my reply, but I didn't know what to answer. Obviously understanding the fact that I literally had no way of replying to her comment, Catwoman spoke for me. "Be careful, okay? He obviously cares about you in some form of way to take time off his vigilante stuff."

"He told me that he had nothing to do anyway." I found my voice and replied confused.

"Batman is always busy, and is never free. For him to take time off and take care of you, you are important for some reason. Oh, and I didn't steal anything this time."

Absolutely dumb founded I remained silent, and for the second time Catwoman left me standing frozen, watching as she left my apartment. A...what? Was that was Scarecrow had meant, and was that what my instincts kept telling me? Whipping my head violently in a desperate prayer to get all of the questions out of my head, I took off my jacket and made my way to my bedroom. I didn't need food, I needed sleep. I was utterly exhausted.

And what had she meant about me meaning something to Batman, why would he 'take time off' just to get me-of all people-home? And...was that jealousy that I had heard in her voice when she spoke about me being important to him? And...and had she actually stolen anything? Why come to my apartment if not to steal things? None of this made any sense to me, and I felt myself getting seriously frustrated. It looked like I was in for a sleepless night.

I had hardly slept last night, exactly like I thought I would...wouldn't. I didn't feel mentally or physically prepared for today. Having spent the whole night tossing and turning, gradually growing more and more frustrated with the inability to answer my questions until I ended up in tears, there was no way in hell that I was going to be able to cope with today and all of my stressful patients.

On arrival to Arkham, I was more nervous than I had planned to be. My timetable had been changed so that I treated the Joker every day, Pamela and Harley four times a week and Two Face and Scarecrow three times a week-I found this out when I reached my office, having found a note and a new time table on my desk. The note read:

 _New time table, since you're doing so well._

 _Doctor Black :)_

I mentally vomited at the smiley face as I threw the note in the bin. It was a kind gesture, but I didn't do the whole...smiley face thing. It just wasn't me. Catwoman's words circled my brain as I took a seat in my comfortable chair. Why would she come to me? Did she visit all the other Arkham staff to give them the same warning? Catwoman was evil, but she was hardly a hero or heroine either. I had checked over and over again throughout the night and this morning for anything missing, but everything was there-exactly as it was before.

Glancing down at my timetable I saw that my first patient was Ivy, after my last meeting with her things would be different between us. Fortunately, I only had two patients today and so I was left with the Joker as my ending of my hard working day. Well, I could at least experience those confusing emotions that I had for him once again and possibly-possibly-figure out what they were and what they meant.

It wasn't love, but it wasn't fear. I wasn't comfortable around him, but I was hardly rigid with worry around him either. I was beginning to slip into this blissful state of which I could look forward to our meetings, but still get slightly nervous and anxious about seeing the psychopath again. It was rather thrilling. But it was far more frustrating, not understanding them at all. I had always known what my feelings were and what they meant...until I met the Joker.

But I had to see Pamela first, and we would have to discuss about the ending of our last session. Everything was beginning to connect in a confusing way. Pamela being all nervous around me, Scarecrow telling me that I'd be fun soon, Catwoman's warning and my fearful gut feeling about Arkham. Oh, I was in for some form of dramatic event that was going to happen soon at Arkham.

I slipped on my white lab coat and put my notepad and pen in my pocket. Taking a deep breath, I locked my office door and left for Ivy's session. Wait. I always locked my door whenever I left it, how did Doctor Black get into my office this morning? My stomach dropped with liquid fear...and then common sense kicked in. He as higher up in the psychiatrist hierarchy than me, meaning that he could probably get spear keys for other offices. That made more sense.

Arriving at Ivy's cell, it wasn't that far away, I flashed my badge to the guards before entering. Ivy was sat at her desk, hair tied with thick, dark green vines that laced through her curled hair, contrasting against the red. "Doc I-"

"Good morning, Ivy." The plant lady slumped back into her chair, breathing deeply for a couple seconds. "We need to talk, about our last session and a common cat criminal I know you're friendly with."

Ivy twitched her head to the side, curiosity sparking in her eyes. I hadn't even brought the pen and paper from my pocket yet. Today's session was most likely for me, not Ivy. "Okay..." Pamela's brows furrowed as she sat forward once more.

"You see, strange things have been happening lately. And...all the dots are beginning to connect. First, you started acting weird. And then I start getting all these weird feelings like something bad is going to happen at Arkham, and I always trust my gut instinct. And then, Scarecrow tells me that I'm going to become fun soon. And then there was last night, when I got a visit from your cat friend telling me to be careful, that something is going to happen in Arkham and that I'm smart enough to figure out what for myself."

I tapped my head with my index finger, my face scrunching up to form a scrutinising expression. "You see, my brains been ticking away, and I can only think of one logical thing. Maybe an attack, a break in or perhaps a break out? Maybe...maybe you know?" I raised my eyebrows knowing at Pamela, who was clutching at her stomach as she paled once more.

I leaned in closer to the crazy plant woman, my face right in front of hers. "I know." Was all I said before getting up and leaving. "Think about it." I told her through the glass as the door closed behind me. The session had taken longer than expected, funny how time passed quickly when you're...caught in the moment. I had a matter of minutes before I was supposed to be at the Joker's cell, and then I had the rest of the day off. I had set myself the target of making my office more...warm and like home.

Deciding to head straight for the Joker, I turned left instead of right and made a beeline right for the Clown Prince of Crime's cell. I made a plan to speak to him about Catwoman and the whole situation with Arkham, see what he know and if I'd finally get some answers out of anyone. I wasn't in the mood for games today. I had no patience or tolerance, and so I was glad that Pamela and the Joker were my only patients, because I could then blow off some steam by...decorating.

Arriving at the Joker's cell, I showed the men my badge and entered. Seriously, they should have recognised me well enough by now so that I didn't have to show them all a picture of me along with my name and degree and a few other pieces of information. The door closed behind me, trapping me in the lion's den. The thought of the Joker being a lion and me being a weak human who had to attack and kill the beast was so hilarious; I ended up laughing out loud.

Slapping a hand over my mouth, I shook my head as the clown looked curiously towards me. I took my seat, leaving my notepad and pen in my pocket in case the clown got...angry-no, wrong word...worried...I didn't know how to phrase it-again. I placed my elbows on the table and leaned in close, watching as the Joker mimicked my movements. I started right into the eyes of the psychotic clown, knowing my next words could easily get me injured. "Tell me what you know about the big plan in Arkham."


	9. Chapter 9

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Nine-Caught in the breakout

~Arabella Jones~

An intense staring competition had developed between the Joker and I, a test to see who would look away first. I sat back in my chair, blinking but not breaking eye contact. "Come on, Joker. Ivy's been acting weird, Scarecrow tells me that I'm going to be fun soon, I've had a mystery visit from Catwoman warning me to be careful and I always trust my instincts, and they're telling me to run as far away as possible right now."

"So why don't you?" The clown replied, leaning closer to me. "Why not run? Why stay, Doll?"

"I need answers." I replied simply, and that was when I chose to look away, I looked towards my pocket as I pulled out my paper and pen.

I flipped to a clean page and clicked the pen. I pushed the paper and pen towards the Joker. "You can write it, and destroy the evidence. Or you can tell me, and trust that I can keep the information for my ears only. Either way, you're going to tell me what's going on." I crossed my arms loosely over my chest, raising my eyebrows at the clown. "Either way, I'm not going anywhere until I have answers, because it's driving me crazy."

The clown ruffled his green hair, licking over his lips as he dropped his hands onto the desk. "Doc, you're going to be sat there for a while." He got up from his seat, and carefully walked behind me, he looked ready to pounce at any second. That should've made me run screaming out of the glass cell but I loved exotic way too much for my own good.

I was able to be more relaxed around him, less like a piece of unmovable rock. The simile made me chuckle a little to myself. "You laugh a lot, always chuckling to yourself." The Joker noted with his head tilted slightly to the side. "I like that."

"You're not the only one." I replied, no meaning to my words, I just wanted to say them.

He placed his hands gently around my neck, bending down so that his lips were millimetres from my cheek. "Remember the last time this happened, doll?" I could feel his warm breath against my cheek, and a shiver ran down my spine. I nodded my head, with too much force which allowed him to know that he was beginning to scare me. I never knew how he was going to act when I walked into our sessions.

He switched his hands with his thumbs, trailing each one up my neck so softly I felt like insects were crawling over my skin. His thumbs stopped on my jaw, and he tugged it towards him. Both hands now clutched at my jaw, holding me in place. My heart was beating so hard that he could probably hear it himself. What was he doing? "I can feel your pulse, doll, you're scared aren't you?"

A shiver ran through my body, causing my teeth to chatter and whole body to shake violently. I was too petrified for words, my throat had swollen up so that I could hardly breathe, and my chest was heaving. He dropped my jaw, and my hand flew to where he had been clenching at it so that I could gently soothe the sore marks. I couldn't figure out why he was acting the way he was. I mean, did he even know anything? Was he angry, sad, happy or just...teasing? I couldn't understand and so, along with fear and anxiety, frustration came along and made all my emotions worse.

I felt my whole body tremble, I really didn't deal with being frustrated all that well. "You know what?" I shouted, hands slamming down on the desk so hard the stung painfully afterwards. That caught the Joker's attention, his eyes scanned from my hands all the way up to my pissed off face. "All I wanted was an answer! I just wanted to know if something was going to happen in Arkham or not and if so, what it is! You know why? So I can sleep at night! So I can stop feeling so frustrated and just...breathe! Why, why can't I have that? Why does everyone stop me from having that? What, is, you're, problem? Have I done anything to make all the people I treat or have seen want to tease me with stupid riddles and lies and secrets?"

I finished blowing off steam with a scream held back in my throat so that my voice was hoarse and sore. My chest heaved and I continued to glare at the clown, hands still stuck on the desk, still sat on the seat and eyes dramatically wide. God only knew how much of a psychotic psychiatrist I looked like then. The Joker took a seat opposite me, his face completely unreadable.

"You've got...anger. A temper. Raw, boiling steam." He told me in a low voice, and in reply I shot him a look that said 'I know that, it's pretty obvious you dumb ass.'

He put his hands up in surrender, eyebrows raised and an amused smile playing at his lips. "Look, Doc, obviously you're a little...annoyed-"

"A little? A little? I have barely slept for days, weeks, I don't even know! I can't remember the last time I slept well or what it even felt like! I just keep thinking and it's killing me! I feel like I'm going crazy!"

"You remember when you told me that everyone was already crazy?"

"Crazier then! Is there a point to this?"

The Joker shook his head a little, tongue sliding over his bottom lip. "I'm just stating how...well I never thought you could freak out like this. When we first met, I thought you were in control, sane, boring...everything I hate. And the more I've seen you, the more I've known you, the more I've been intrigued. The more I've liked. Because you're so crazy, but there's a method and an understanding to that crazy."

"I am not crazy. I am exhausted. I am frustrated. I am far from crazy at the moment."

"You're also in denial."

My fists clenched automatically, and I took in a deep breath through my nose. I had an awful temper, and I really didn't want to be pushed to my limit by the Joker, and then reach my limit in front of the Joker. "You look really angry Doll. You know how I can help?"

"How?"

"Close your eyes."

Before I could reply, or close my eyes, I heard multiple grunts, groans and moans from outside the cell. I turned around and saw all the guards falling to the floor, clutching different parts of their body as they fell into deep unconsciousness. "What the hell?" I shouted, getting up from my seat. But someone caught my wrist and yanked me back down.

I turned to the clown in front of me, a mixture of fear, rage and confusion running through my system. "Jack." I warned through gritted teeth. His eyes slitted then, jaw clinching as his grip tightened.

"I warned you not to call me Jack." My face twisted into confusion, but before I could ask anything the Joker hands gripped my head and slammed it into the solid oak desk.

It was so hard, so forceful, that my vision blurred instantly as a low groan left my mouth. Everything was rapidly going dark but before I fell into deep unconsciousness, I felt arms wrap around me and pick me up. "Sorry, doll but I couldn't have you running away now could I?" And then everything went pure, pitch black leaving me wondering what the Clown Prince of Crime had meant.


	10. Chapter 10

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Ten-Kidnapped by the Clown

~Arabella Jones~

My body noticed several things all at once as I came back from unconsciousness. The dampness of the cold, hard floor; the dull light making me have to squint to see anything and the awful pounding in my head. My mind however, was a complete blur. I couldn't think straight, I could only think a dozen questions and not be able to understand any answers what so ever. Where was I? What had happened last? Who...who did this to me?

The door cracked open slightly, and a familiar face became recognisable as the light hit it. I gasped in a deep breath as all the memories came flooding in. The Joker, the clown had taken me and I had no idea where. My whole body went into panic mode as I struggled to crawl further away from him, my back hitting the wall after a few attempts. My body still attempted to move further, chest heaving and heart pounding a pure fear ran through my veins.

The clown ran down the steps; his thickly soled shoes made no sound against the solid flooring. I froze as he approached me, the pain still hot and furious in my head, my eyesight was still blurred a bit and I felt nauseous and extraordinarily dizzy. I watched in anticipation as the Joker crouched down in front of me, studying my panicked position. My body was sprawled out, my chest moving rapidly and my eyes were wide and burning like wild fire.

He licked over his lips, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Morning, doll." Morning? It-it was nearly afternoon when he had...taken me. Had I been knocked out for that long? I licked over my own dry lips, clearing my throat to speak.

"Where am I?" I asked carefully, body frozen so that I remained in the same position as before. "What have you done? Why aren't we in Arkham? I-I don't understand!" I felt all the familiar emotions bubbling within me again. Panic, fear and something else...something indescribable.

The Joker reached out a purple, gloved hand, cupping my cheek gently. "Hush doll, I'll answer all your questions soon enough. For now, we need to get you out of here." I swallowed the lump in my throat, no longer able to hold the same position. My body failed on me, and so I fell against the ground with a thud. I closed my eyes for a split second before they instinctively opened themselves again, not able to trust the Joker.

Ignoring the clown's outstretched hand, he'd done enough, I pushed myself up with the little strength I had left. Anger was beginning to kick in; they did say that I had a short fuse. I held my fisted hands by my side as I walked past the Joker and up the stairs. "Doc, how'd you know where you're going?" He asked, not far behind me.

"Oh, I don't. But if I have to stay in this...whatever it is, any longer I'm going to scream." I replied bluntly, flexing my fingers from their fisted position.

I still didn't understand what was going on. Why had he taken me? Where had he taken me? Had he broken out in Arkham, and if so who else had? So many unanswered questions were beginning to making my head hurt worse than before. The newer and brighter light wasn't helping either. I squinted for a couple of moments as my eyes adjusted, a pain searing through my skull like white fire.

I heard a door close behind me, and turned to see the Joker locking the door from which we'd just submerged from. "Where are we?" I asked impatiently. He rolled his shoulders, and I noticed then that he was again without his purple coat-left with a blue hexagonally patterned shirt and a green waistcoat along with a purple tie which hung loosely around his neck. His trousers-like always-were purple accompanied by thickly soled shoes of some kind.

My eyes scanned back up to his face, still freshly painted with white along with red lipstick covering his lips and scars and black eye paint that leaked up to his eye brows and down to his cheek bones. Like usual, his green hair was tangled and a mess, like a lions mane around his head. I got this strange feeling in the bottom of my stomach then, but it was only there for a couple of seconds. It was like a little flutter, this tickling sensation at the pit of my stomach that sent a shiver up my spine. The feeling was strangely...blissful.

I looked away, awkwardly, as our eyes met. "We're in my warehouse, and that's all you need to know for now." I nodded my head, pinching the bridge of my nose for a few moments. Taking several deep breaths in an attempt to calm my nerves, I dropped my hands by my side and waited for a further explanation. "Come, I'll show you where you're staying." I followed the Joker through hallway after hallway, the amount of corridors I'd had to remember was ridiculous. It looked like I could forget about Arkham now, though.

I watched the clown from behind, wondering why he was treating me so well. I had read many books in my time, a lot of which had some form of kidnapping involved. They treated their victims awfully, the kidnappers, abusing them and they certainly wouldn't have given them a safe and warm place to sleep. So why was I different?

We stopped in front of a purple door; it was a calming shade of purple, but oddly dark and intense. "You'll be staying in my room and you're to stay in here until someone comes and gets you." I nodded my head, too weak and tired for words. Everything in the past five minutes had drained from me, and I'd be willing to rest anywhere. There was a...moment of silence between us before the Joker reached out and opened the door.

The room inside wasn't what I had expected, not one bit. I had expected dirty, dark and isolated. Instead the room was warm and welcoming; it made me feel at peace. The walls were also calming shade of purple, but also a focusing shade, slightly dark but not moodily dark-lighter than the door though. The curtains were a light shade of green, but were thick and so they blocked out a lot of light. The lampshade was also green, a couple shades darker and more like the colour of the Joker's hair. The floor was hard and cold, and that was the only thing that fitted with the expectation I had for the bedroom.

I turned back around to see if the Joker was still watching me, my heart sank a little as I found that the doorway was empty and the clown wasn't anywhere in sight. Why did my heart sink? The psychopath had just kidnapped me, knocked me unconscious and was forcing me to stay with him, in his warehouse, in his bedroom...I should be glad that he was gone, relieved even but instead, my heart told me that I was sad. It made little to no sense to me at all.

Hesitantly, I walked over towards his bed. Just the thought of crawling under the thick duvet and resting my head on the plush pillows, finally allowing my aching body some rest on the comfortable mattress...well it was enough to make me get onto the bed without hesitation. The pillow cases were multi-coloured, red green and black, and the duvet covers were an identical shade of purple to the walls that surrounded me. It should've looked over whelming, but it all looked organised and perfectly coordinated, and the OCD part of me loved it.

I was too hot and frustrated to crawl under the covers, and so I laid on top with my head rested on the pillows and eyes closed, finally allowing myself to just think. And breathe. And be calm. My mind raced, but everything connected in an unorganised way. I couldn't figure out many things. Why did the Joker take me with him when he broke out of Arkham? Who else had broken out of Arkham? Why had Catwoman warned me about Arkham? Why did she say that I was important to Batman-The Batman of all people?

I now knew that Ivy was planning to escape herself, and that was why she wasn't telling me anything and was acting unsettled around me. Whether she got out or not, I didn't know. I had some form of respect for the cat lady as she warned me about Arkham, obviously it wasn't enough though. I mean, I ended up laying on the Joker's bed for God sake. However, some small part of me was still annoyed that she hadn't had the generosity to tell me what was going to happen, if she had, maybe I could've avoided this.

The anger I felt towards the Joker-towards the whole stressful situation-was rapidly dying and was being replaced by the urge to cry and sob like a weak, little baby. For days I had been frustrated and confused, for nights I had been unable to sleep and overly uncomfortable and now...sure I knew what had happened in Arkham but along with that information, came many more questions.

Giving up for the time being, I turned over on my side to get into a more comfortable position. My body clock told me that it was still day time, late morning or early afternoon. I hated sleeping in the day; it forced my body in an unorganised chaotic thing. Hopefully I'd be allowed to sleep, just for a couple hours at least.

The warehouse was eerily quiet, I couldn't hear anything coming from anywhere, and it was as if the whole place was dead. The thought caused a searing pain to shoot through me, all these new feelings and pains that I couldn't understand we're sending me into insanity. I wondered if maybe the Joker had left, along with his 'goons'. The clown had goons, and his goons were the men who worked for him and did most of the dirty work. Don't get me wrong, the clown had the habit of pretending to be one of his own goons so that he could join in with the fun, it was amusing to imagine. A smile formed on my face as I realised something I should've long ago about the Joker, deep down he was just a child who wanted some fun. Wanted to play, just in the wrong way.

I rested back on the bed, more relaxed with the thought of the Joker as a little boy, purer than now, running around screaming with innocent joy. I didn't know why it was relaxing, but I didn't care either. Anything would be perfect as long as it settled me enough to sleep. To sleep in blissful darkness, relax my mind and body and finally allow myself to be blessed with energy.

I must've slept eventually, because when I next woke it was noticeably darker. And yells were echoing through the corridors of the warehouse.


	11. Chapter 11

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Eleven-I'm not a Doctor I'm a Psychiatrist

~Arabella Jones~

I had only been awake for a matter of seconds before someone pounded on the door. The volume of the noises that came from outside the room sent my heart into a violent race, and it woke me up enough to think straight. Running my fingers through my hair, I bolted to the door and threw it open. On the other side was one of the Joker's goons, a bulky man wearing a small mask that pinched at his face. He made a motion with his finger for me to follow him, and so-hesitantly-I did.

The goon took me down many halls and corridors that I hadn't had the chance to experience yet. I followed behind silently, my shoes not making a sound on the solid floor. I kept on running my fingers through my hair and wiping under my eyes, sure that wherever I was about to go, it'd be public and I didn't want to look like a mess. Where was he taking me anyway? The Joker had told me that I wasn't to leave his room until someone came to get me, and this clown man had come for me.

The goon stopped in front of a door, solid oak and dark like all others except the Joker's, before knocking three times in an unusual pattern. He waited exactly five seconds before entering. But, before he entered he grabbed my wrist and pulled me in with him. "Hey! Get off of me you imbecile!" I yanked my wrist out of his grip and glared daggers into the goon.

"Imbecile?" Someone asked, but I was too busy glaring to pay attention to the voice.

"Yes, do you need a definition?" I turned my head to the voice, and stopped cold when I realised who had spoken.

The Joker shook his head, and amused expression on his face. I crossed my arms over my chest, glancing at the goons around me, wearing their unnerving clown masks. "Why am I here?" Multiple groans and moans surrounded the room, making it clear that the men were in pain. The only one who resembled happiness was the Joker himself.

"You're a Doctor right?" I rolled my eyes and sighed. Did I really have to explain this?

"You know, just because someone has 'Doctor' in their name it doesn't mean that they're a Doctor. I'm not a Doctor, I'm a Psychiatrist. However, I know basic medical needs." I stopped my minor rant, curious as to why the Joker had asked.

Turned out that I didn't need to ask, for I saw the Joker taking off his purple jacket. Underneath the purple jacket, on his right arm, was a deep slash with blood pouring out of it and a couple shards of glass caught the light. The blood drained from my face as I processed the grizzly sight. "I need a medical kit, make sure it has a needle and thread, not ordinary needle and thread either. I trust you have common sense." I said to no one in particular, hoping one of them listened to me.

It caught my attention then that many-if not all-of the other goons around me had injuries of their own, but I had already made my way to the Joker. "I...Um I need you to take off your shirt, carefully."

"But Doc, it's a little soon don't you think?" I rolled my eyes at the clown, gesturing for him to hurry up. One of the goons came back with a medical kit while the Joker was removing his shirt. I checked it and then thanked the goon for getting me one with all the equipment I needed.

Turning back to the clown, I sat down by his side and began to wet a white cloth with antiseptic. "This is going to sting like a bitch." I warned him, the cloth hovering above the injury.

"Thanks for softening the warning Doc." He replied sarcastically. Seeing no need for a retort, I simply pressed the cloth over the wound, sickeningly aware of how much it would hurt. The Joker yelled out loud and shot me a pissed off look.

"Oh do be quiet, I need to concentrate." I removed the cloth and began to gently dab over the bloody area, careful of the glass.

Placing the bloodied cloth down on the table in front of me, I picked up a pair of tweezers and a small metal tin. Resting the metallic cylinder on my lap, I began to inspect the open wound that was still leaking blood. Careful not to cause him a lot of pain-I'd done enough of that already-I started picking out shard of glass after shard of glass. There were quite a few pieces in the tin by the time that I was finished, and some of them are gorily large.

I started to gently pat over the wound with the antiseptic cloth once more, hoping that it wouldn't sting as much for the Joker. While doing this, I glanced up and the man to see him staring right back down at me. "Not much longer, just some stitches now. I'd recommend taking pain killers afterward but that doesn't seem like something you'd do." My mouth twitched up at one side as I spoke the words, knowing that I was speaking the truth.

The Joker remained silent as I threaded the needle and gently pricked his skin with it. I didn't wait, knowing it would be better and quicker if I just started. I sewed up the wound as best as I could, reminding him of the fact that I was no Doctor. When I finally cut the thread I sighed in relief and picked up a bandage. "I take it you don't feel like explaining to me how this happened?" I inquired the clown while wrapping his arm carefully in protective bandages.

"Not really, no." He replied, taking a deep breath. I finished wrapping his arm and placed the bandage in a position so that it wouldn't fall away.

The Joker got up and examined his arm carefully. "Thanks, Doll. Now you can start working on my men." With that, he left the room-leaving me with a dozen goons in clown masks. I gestured for one of them to take a seat and began my heavy duty of fixing up the Joker's men. I wondered what had actually happened to cause so much destruction, but it would probably be on the news tomorrow. There was all manner of injuries, bullet wounds, slashes from knifes and grazes by a bullet that just missed but none of them were like the Joker's, leading me to believe that something else had happened differently for him.

It occurred to me then that I was fixing up all if the Joker's men so that he could go out and cause more destruction and commit more crime once more. It also came to my mind the probability that perhaps he had been fighting Batman, which was amusing to imagine indeed. When the last goon had been stitched up and repaired, he told me that it was his duty to take me back to the Joker's room. I looked down at my hands and saw that they were covered in blood along with many other parts of my clothing. "I want some form of cleansing liquids, shampoo and body wash. You know what I mean. I checked the bathroom earlier to see that there was none and I'm not going to remain like this."

The goon simply nodded his head, leaving the room to guide me back to mine...the Joker's. I felt exhausted and slightly nauseous after seeing all of the blood and open wounds, and I again began to wonder what could have possibly caused such chaos. Shaking the thought off and telling myself that the past was in the past, I concentrated on following the goon. "Wait in here; I'll be back in a minute." It was the first time any of the goons had spoken to me, and it was odd to hear his voice sound so muffled through the mask.

I waited like instructed, and sure enough the goon returned in a matter of moments with two bottles. I thanked him and watched as he left before closing the door and running to the bathroom. The idea of a shower was blissful; the blood was beginning to dry on my fingers causing them to become sticky and tense. I started running the water, ensuring that it was hot, before stripping off the bloody clothes and stepping in.

Hot water, bubbles and shampoo suds ran over my body, it felt so good it caused shivers to run down my spine. I felt so much cleaner and happier as I turned off the shower water and started to dry my body. I needed that, even if it felt slightly odd showering in the Joker's shower, I needed to bring back some sanity in my life. I wrapped the purple towel around my body before stepping out of the steaming bathroom.

I had this bad habit of talking to myself, like the Joker's bad habit of licking his lips. I couldn't help it and I would sometimes forget where I was and start speaking to myself in public. It helped me focus, to process information. Scientists said that it was actually a good thing, and apparently old Albert Einstein did it himself. As I dumped my old and dirty clothes onto the floor by the bed, it struck my then what trouble I had just gotten myself into. "Shit." I cursed under my breath, realising I had no clothes to wear. "What a smart idea you dumbass, take a shower and then leave yourself with no god damn clothes to wear, why not?"

"It's not very nice to swear." Someone called from the door way, causing me to gasp and spin around. Standing by the door, which was now open, was the clown himself.

His eyes trailed up and down my body, making me extraordinarily self-conscious about how small the towel was and how little it covered. "Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" It was supposed to sound demanding and angry, but my voice came out quiet and wavered a little. My heart began to pound as the Joker started walking closer to me, further into the room. He nodded his head over to the wardrobe which I hadn't paid enough attention to earlier to notice.

"Go and check it." Sending the Joker a suspicious look, I hesitantly opened the doors of the red wardrobe.

Inside were clothes that looked all too familiar. Keeping a hand clutched at my towel, I reached up and pulled at the clothes with a confused expression. "But...these are my clothes!" I turned to face the Joker, who was smirking at me. He shrugged his shoulders and clasped his hands together. I shook my head, laughing lightly at his slyness. "How's your arm?" I asked while reaching up to pick out a top and a pair of trousers.

"Excuse me?" I turned my head to face the Joker once more, what was so hard to understand about that?

"Your arm, how is it?" I asked again, dumping the clothes and a few other things on the bed.

"It's fine." He replied simply, looking over at where the gory wound was.

I shrugged my shoulders at his confusion; did no one ever ask him if he was okay? The Joker obviously took my waiting in silence as his cue to leave, and so he simply left and closed the door behind him. Shaking his unusualness off, I turned to the clothes on the bed and started getting dressed. It was about time that I started feeling more like myself again. I felt saner after a couple hours of sleep and a shower, but I knew that there was more to come. Much more.


	12. Chapter 12

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Twelve-I actually love the colour purple

~Arabella Jones~

When it finally clicked that for the Joker to have my clothes in his warehouse, in his bedroom, he would have had to break into my apartment, I was not a happy bunny. Not one bit. I groaned out loud as I paced the room, knowing what he had seen and not knowing what he could've possibly seen. The man had truly intruded my personal space, I felt seriously violated. Did he go himself or did he send one of his goons? Neither option sounded better than the other, the whole situation had become extremely embarrassing.

I flopped back down on the bed, pushing interestingly scary thoughts out of my head. I didn't know the time, as I had no phone and there wasn't a clock in the Joker's room. I hadn't eaten or had a drink all day, and I felt like I was about to pass out. "What's a girl got to do to get some food and water around here?" I shouted to myself, feeling my lips form into a pout like a little child. "I'm going to die in here!" I felt exasperated, and restless. I was bored out of my mind already, and now I was in need of food and water. Basic necessities.

"That's a little exaggerated, don't you think?" One of the Joker's goons entered my room, carrying a tray of food and drinks. "Boss thought you'd be hungry after all that...working. Told me to make you something to eat and give it to you."

With wide eyes and raised eyebrows, I took the tray from the goon and put it on the bed. "It looks really, really good. Thank you." I told him sincerely. He nodded his head and did a small bow before politely leaving the room, closing the door behind him. It was odd, how polite the goons were. I didn't know whether to believe him or not about the Joker sending me the food, but what reason did he have to lie to me?

Taking a seat next to the food, I examined the contents and felt my stomach growl with hunger. There was all manner of luxuries on the tray. The liquids ranged from a cup of tea to a glass of milk and then a glass of orange juice. There was toast and sandwiches and cake and biscuits for food, along with fruits like apple and strawberries. It was obvious that the goon didn't know what to make me, and it warmed my heart that he had gone through all that effort just to feed me something I may like.

I popped a strawberry in my mouth, moaning a little as the sweet juice exploded onto my tongue. I hadn't realised how desperate I was for something to drink and eat until then, and food rapidly left the tray, ending up in my stomach. Guzzling down some of the fresh milk which cooled my burning throat, I felt energy begin to explore my body once more. I was feeling a lot better after eating, as good as I could after being kidnapped by the Joker and having a big black bruise on my head that still aches and caused me pain whenever anything touched it.

When the food and liquids were all gone, I placed the tray, along with its components, onto the floor and stretched; for a beautiful moment I felt like a little kid at home. I missed my apartment, it was small and crappy but it was my apartment, the place where I would go home to after a hard working day at Arkham. I wondered how many days it would be until I was able to leave the warehouse, until I was able to see other people and breathe fresh air.

I got up from my seat, beginning to become increasingly restless once more. When I was younger, a couple years ago, I would dance around the room talking to myself when I was bored. And to be completely honest, I still did. Deciding to do exactly that as it never failed to entertain me, I mimicked my younger self. Arms outstretched as I spun around, kicking my feet out and doing small jumps, I began to think out loud. I needed to process some things anyway. "The room is very purple. But that's okay, I love the colour purple. I like the mixture of all the other colours as well, and it's rather amusing how every colour is part of the Joker's disguise. I know there's a face under the make-up; I swear to god I'll see it one day."

I jumped onto the other foot, flopping my body about like a dying fish, feeling so stupid I ended up laughing to myself. "I'm so crazy." I said to myself, abruptly stopping my giggles. "I'm not crazy, just weird. It's hardly any big shock, I haven't had the best run of it have I? I was bound to turn out a little strange, either that or a murderer. Maybe I'm a mix of both and I'm yet to see the killer side." Tilting my head a little, I thought the possibility over in my mind before bursting out loud in a fit of laughter. "But seriously, I've got to stop laughing and talking to myself in public, I'll end up in Arkham soon." Unable to stop the giggles that erupted from my personal joke, I leaned against the wall and caught my breath.

The truth is, I had always been like this. Always speaking to myself like someone was there, laughing at my own jokes when no one was around. I was a lonely child, and I always preferred my own company. That was just me. "You know, Bella. People say I'm the crazy one, but I'm starting to think that you're the crazier one in this warehouse." The voice was all too recognisable, and I could put a face to it before turning around. But I was more shocked than anything. How long had the Joker been standing there watching me?

I turned on the spot, using only one socked foot. "You should learn how to knock, Jack. People will think it's weird, you watching someone while they're unaware." I ruffled my hair with my fingers before making the smart decision of changing the subject. "One of your men told me that you sent me the food."

"I couldn't let you starve after you saved all my men now, could I?"

"Well, you easily could've. You made me wait long enough." I crossed my arms over my chest, shaking my head as I could predict this turning into a defensive argument.

There were a couple moments where neither of us spoke, but simply accepted each other's presence. I took a seat on the bed and rested against the wall. My fingers trailed over the purple paint. "I take it you heard my confession of loving the colour purple?"

"I found it quite pleasing."

"What, the colour or my confession?" I was rewarded by a low chuckle from the clown, who had decided to remain hovering in the doorway. "Why are you here?" I asked, in a way that told him that I didn't want him to leave, but simply wanted to know. "Why am I here?"

"So many questions, doll." He replied, letting his head tilt back. "You're here because I need you, and I'm here because I wanted to check that you are okay, because I need you...alive and healthy."

He needed me? Well, that was interesting. My whole attitude was beginning to change towards the Joker. I wasn't afraid of him anymore, because I knew- I knew-that deep down he would never kill me or seriously injure me. He would've done it by now. And obviously I was of some importance to him, if not I wouldn't be in his room right now. "Well, I believe that's satisfying enough for now. Do I remain in your room?"

"I believe so." Without another word, glance or any form of acceptance that I was even in the room, the Joker left and closed the door behind him softly.

I could never understand the clown, and that was only to be predicted of him. If his stories were true, then he had quite the traumatic childhood and then his adult life with his wife wasn't all the good either. And they were only things that he told; God knows what else he was hiding underneath. Bottling it all up, it wasn't good for you or your sanity. I then knew one reason for why the Joker was as insane as he was, and it was tragic really.

But, by him acting the way he was, it only seemed to be confusing me and my feeling for him even more. I didn't know whether I hated the man or whether I was falling head first in love with him. It could easily be either, and both were a frightening option that I wasn't sure I wanted to admit to feeling. I honestly couldn't tell, and it was something that I was well aware would end up with me having some form of break down for; I couldn't cope with confused or mixed feelings. I needed order and understanding, as soon as something went the other way, I'd shatter into tiny pieces.

Ridding myself of the most depressing thoughts that I had thought all day, I shook my body a little and got up from my position. I must've been sat there for a while, as my feet had gone numb and were now beginning to burn as the blood rushed to them. I hated the pain, the prickling sensation. I needed out, I needed to feel the wind whipping my hair back and I just needed to be around other people and a little less purple.

Scanning the room, I made sure that no one had by chance slipped in. Running to the door, I glanced around the corridors to make sure no one was around. The warehouse had gone deadly quiet once more, like it did every so often. I guessed that meant that the Joker and his goons had gone out for another round of crime. At least I'd have some time to escape properly. I wasn't leaving forever; my heart and mind told me that I'd find myself returning to the warehouse soon.

I left the room, knowing that I was too high up to leave through the window, that it was too risky and I'd most likely die if I jumped. I knew that I'd be running around the warehouse blind, having only left the room once to treat the Joker's goons. I turned a mixture of lefts and rights, running down flights of stairs only to find myself lost at more intersections until finally there it was. Two big double doors that unmistakably led to the outside world.

I sprinted for them, grabbing the handles and heaving with all my strength. I thought that they were locked at first, but after several pumps off pure strength, the doors flew open. And there it was. Gotham streets roaming with unobservant people who were too lost in their own world to notice a kidnapped psychiatrist leaving the Joker's warehouse.

Cool air hit my face blissfully, and I spent a minute just absorbing the cold. And then the warehouse doors slammed behind me, reminding me of what I had just done. I was dead, dead I was. The Joker would kill me for leaving him, he'd think that I couldn't stand to be around him and had just abandoned him. But it wasn't that, I just needed to go outside. And so I ran down the steps, and into the dark night.


	13. Chapter 13

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Thirteen-Return of the Scarecrow

~Arabella Jones~

It was truly refreshing, to roam through the darkening Gotham streets. Again, I spotted the bat signal in the sky, a sly reminder that Batman was always watching over you. I pulled my eyes from the sky, well aware that I'd end up walking into someone while distracted. I had nothing valuable on me anyway, but I wished I had something warmer on, maybe a jacket or coat?

I knew what would happen when the Joker returned. He'd find me missing, and think that I ran away because I couldn't cope to be around him. He'd think that it was because of his scars, or his mixed personality or just his presence. I knew this, because I knew the Joker well enough to know that it was so. My heart sank and stomach knotted at the thought, knowing none of those things were true. Knowing the truth, deep down. I just wasn't ready to admit it.

Trying to keep my mind as blank as possible, I switched off any thoughts of the clown and focused on enjoying the little time I had outside. I didn't exactly wish to return to my old apartment, there wasn't anything left for me there, but it seemed that I was stranded otherwise. Who else could I possibly go to? The thought of Poison Ivy crossed my mind, and I was yet again left to question whether she had escaped Arkham or not. And what about Harley, had she made it out of the Asylum? I wanted to find the two of them, knowing they'd most likely be together as they were the closest two friends could get. If I could find one-and that included Catwoman as she was part of their little trio-then I'd most likely end up finding the others.

I searched all around, making sure that it was subtle and that I continued to walk, in hope to find any form of familiar face. With no such luck, I trailed on further and further down Gotham's streets. Further and further away from the Joker's warehouse. Guilt was beginning to bubble at the pit of my stomach as the thought again crossed my mind. Could I really let him think that? I should've left a note, but that would only seem incredibly patronising. I was stuck; I couldn't do one thing without losing on the other.

Taking a sharp right, I started to take a slow stroll down a calm alley way. Nobody was around, which probably wasn't my smartest idea. I'd most likely get mugged or raped or murdered while taking a nice walk down an abandoned alley way. For someone who had many degrees and practically perfect grades, I lacked in common sense from time to time. Chuckling lowly to myself at my own personal joke, I realised that it was a lot colder than I had intentioned. The wind bit at me with needle sharp teeth, sinking into my frozen bones.

I laced my arms around myself, hunching over in an attempt to keep in body warmth. I was so busy focusing on how cold I was that I didn't notice the dark figure lurking in the shadows of the alley. As another gush of icy wind blew my hair out of my face and so I caught just a glimpse of something dark and far from elegant. I froze on the spot, my blood running cold. All of my muscles had been turned to stone as hot fear seared through my whole body.

Turning slowly, hesitant of what was hidden, I felt the urge to run screaming and crying for Batman. I couldn't do that, I knew I couldn't and that's why I knew I was a dead woman. "Well, hello there Doctor Jones." That voice was all too scarily familiar, even though our session was brief; I knew the playful tone all too well. Finally facing my killer, I took everything in. The dark suit, the tall posture, the shadows that made his body seem jagged. And that final, frightful part to the villainous master piece, that hessian scarecrow mask. The mask with a ragged, stitched mouth which twisted into a snarl and hollow, soulless eyes. My heart skipped several beats in white fear.

My tongue had tied itself into knots, and so I stood completely motionless. I didn't know what to say, what to do or what would trigger anything from Scarecrow. If he had any fear gas on him, I might as well have already been screaming. Taking a hesitant step back, I swallowed the choking lump that had formed in my throat. "Good evening, Scarecrow."

"Tell me, Doctor Jones, are you fun yet?" I shook my head a couple times, not trusting myself to talk.

I needed someone to come and help me, as much as I hated to admit it, I needed someone to save me and get me the hell away from this madman in a Scarecrow mask. Backing up a little bit more, I searched my brain for something to say, something to distract him. "I see you escaped from Arkham."

"Ah, yes. That clown came in use after all." By 'that clown' he meant the Joker. At the thought of the deep down vulnerable man, my stomach twisted. Why had I left the warehouse? Why didn't I stay inside? I wondered for a moment if he had returned yet, and decided to pray he hadn't.

I was saved from replying by familiar green vines snaking up behind Scarecrow and wrapping themselves around his neck with chocking force. They lifted him into the air so he dangled helplessly by the throat. The sight made me want to laugh, as it looked ridiculous. Red hair and green skin with darker green clothing appeared from the shadows, and I couldn't have been more relived to see the crazy plant lady. "Oh my god Ivy!"

"Walking down a dark alley really wasn't your smartest idea, doc."

Avoiding the kicking legs of Scarecrow, I jogged to stand next to Ivy and back into the shadows. "So I see you also escaped from Arkham."

"I was hardly going to stay in there voluntarily. We both know that I don't deserve to be in there." Reluctantly, I nodded my head with a sigh. "So what's been going on with you?" I decided to trust Ivy with the truth, and so I began to ramble on about what had been happening in my all new life.

"When the Joker broke out of Arkham, I was in the middle of having a session with him. He knocked me out and took me with him. He says he needs me, and that's why he won't let me go. I wasn't supposed to come out, I just needed to go out for a bit but I think I should go back before he finds out I'm gone."

Ivy studied me for a minute; I felt her green eyes burn into me. "Why do you want to go back to the warehouse?"

"I don't want to hurt him. And I shouldn't have left anyway; I should get back before he figures out that I left in the first place." The conversation died there. Pamela took my arm and started leading me back out of the alley way. "Where are we going?"

"Back to Catwoman's apartment. Harley will be there as well."

"She broke out too?" Ivy nodded her head, red curls bouncing in the wind. I wondered how she wasn't frozen cold when she wore so little.

I didn't know if it was a good idea for me to go back to Catwoman's apartment with Ivy, especially if Harley was there. I didn't know how the jester would react if she found out about the Joker and what he did to me. She was obsessed with him...would she get jealous? I felt like I should've out right refused, and ran off back to the warehouse. But no matter how hard my mind thought this, my body remained following Ivy.

Several streets later, we arrived at a block of apartments. Ivy didn't hesitate to take us inside, marching straight for the stairs. It occurred to me then that I didn't know for sure that Catwoman would even want me around her, let alone in her apartment. The sensation of nerves began to twist my stomach, a pain settled in my lower abdomen and I had to swallow several time to remove the lump from my throat. I was all too aware of the fact that Catwoman wasn't the only reason for my nerves. To be completely honest, my nerves came from the fact that I knew the Joker would be furious with me whenever I returned, and I knew I'd get hurt. Physically.

Ignoring the shudder than ran down my spine, I focused on climbing up the last of the remaining stairs. I gasped in another breath of air, feeling my head become increasingly light and darkness began to blur my vision. "Damn, for a skinny girl you're really out of shape."

"Well I'm sorry for having heart problems." I replied to Ivy's sarcastic comment while leaning against the wall in a crouched position.

"Heart problems?"

"My heart beats slower than the average human heart. I get cold extraordinarily easy, I get very ill easily and I have really low blood pressure. My stupid heart beating slower than it should means that because I've just climbed up a load of stairs, I put my heart and body under a phenomenal amount of pressure and with low blood pressure, it was only going to end like this."

Ivy gave me a sympathetic look, arms crossed loosely over her chest as she stood perfectly fine. Not a bit out of breath, no one would've thought that she'd just ran up several flights of stairs. I shook my head at her, turning a blind eye to the envy that burned at the back of my throat. I didn't know if I wanted to be Ivy or not, her kiss was poisonous and she wasn't normal. She's not. And that's her problem, because no average person these days likes abnormal. Luckily, I did.

I pushed myself off of the wall and took one final breath. "So, why aren't we going into the apartment?"

"I'm sorry, Arabella." How did she know my name? She shouldn't have known my name, and why the hell was she apologising to me? I knew it. I knew that I should've gone back to the warehouse, and now I was on the verge of having a panic attack about what Ivy had to be sorry about.

"What have you done?" Instead of replying, she simply turned and walked into an apartment-not even waiting for me to follow. She left the door open, but the red haired girl disappeared into the darkness.

I couldn't help my curiosity. With careful footsteps, I hesitantly made my way into the darkness. "Ivy?" I called out, hoping for the green woman to come back into the light. "Ivy this isn't funny!" I was seriously beginning to panic. I couldn't understand as to why Ivy had apologised, why she had been so weird, why she had led me here in trust only to do this and scare me like so. When I got no reply from Pamela, I fumbled against the wall for any form of light switch. Having no success on the first wall, I tried the one on the other side of me. On finding a light switch, I flicked it on and was momentarily blinded while my eyes adjusted to the light.

Sat there, with a gun pointed to their heads were Ivy, Catwoman and Harley. They were tied up and sat crossed leg on the floor. And the man holding the gun was the one and only clown himself. "You have been a bad girl, doll."


	14. Chapter 14

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Fourteen-The Joker's wrath

~Arabella Jones~

Frozen on the spot, I stared wide eyed from the Joker, to the goons around him, to the gun he held in his hand and then the three girls he had his lethal weapon pointed at. I couldn't understand why Ivy would do this; lead me here only to get kidnapped herself. To be blunt, I found it quite stupid. I focused my eyes on the green lady, and caught her look away nervously. I felt myself harden a little, and I knew I needed to be strong right now. Especially in front of the Joker, who didn't seem to be in the healthiest mental state. "What do you want?" I forced my gaze to rest on the clown instead of Ivy, knowing what a fatal move that could've been.

The clown clicked his gun, his tongue trailed over his bottom lip as he rested his steady gaze on me. "Careful, doc. All it takes is a little push and you'll have one less friend."

"I don't understand. Why are you here? What the hell happened with Ivy? And why are you so...mad?"

"So many questions, doll. Maybe I'll be kind and answer you." The way he shook the gun in his hand sent a wave of nerves rippling down my spine, and the sound of an imaginary gunshot vibrated through my brain. "When I got back to the warehouse and found that you had escaped through the window, I wasn't happy. Not, one, bit. I went out and found your little plant friend, remembering you mentioned something about you two getting along in Arkham. I told her that I'd blow out her pretty little brain and then kill all of her pretty little plants if she didn't find you and bring you to me."

I processed all of the new information, feeling the small spark of anger that I felt towards Pamela die. So, the Joker had taken a turn for the crazy side. Maybe if I explained that I was going to come back, that I felt bad for leaving...maybe he'd understand. That was a foolish thought. "Can we speak, in private? Without an audience."

"No." Okay, so he was going to play tough. I scrambled around in my brain to think of a plan, anything to get all of us out of here alive.

I didn't know how much time had passed before someone spoke, maybe ten or twenty minutes, but when the Joker got fed up with the silence, I was slightly thankful. "So, what were you doing with the little time you had to roam free?" The clown took a seat; literally just sitting down on a stool that I hadn't noticed was there before. The gun was no longer pointed at any one, but was in fact resting in the hands of one of the goons. Whether it was one I had spoken to, or one I had treated, I didn't know. They all looked the same to me apart from different builds.

I swallowed, unsure of whether I should tell the truth. Deciding that lying would only make the situation worse, I began to spill information as calmly as I could. "I left the warehouse for some fresh air, an evening stroll. I planned on returning within the hour, after clearing my mind. But Scarecrow...paid me a visit. I got into some trouble and that was when Ivy came in, if it wasn't for her, I'd be lying on the floor, a twitching mess as I lived in a silent nightmare."

"Am I supposed to be grateful or something?" I simply sighed and shook my head for reply, knowing that it was a pointless attempt.

I dropped my hands to my side, feeling them slowly curl into fists. The thought of so much as saying the words made adrenaline run through my veins. After speaking, I'd either be dead or one of the girls would. But maybe..."I was going to return back to the warehouse anyway. So drop the gun, and take me home." When I said the word home, everything changed. My words were a complete game changer. I watched as a new expression entered the Joker's eyes, his face changing. It was there a second, but then gone the next.

I thought I had gotten through to him, and hope surged through me at the thought of being able to return to the warehouse without any injuries. A girl could dream. I heard the gun get positioned in the Joker's hand once more, and that's why my eyes snapped up from the floor. "Bad choice of words, doc." I didn't think, I didn't even wonder who he was going to shoot or even if he was going to shoot. Instead, I pushed my body forward as fast as I could to take the bullet instead of one of the girls.

Hot fire hit my upper thigh full force as the bullet pierced my skin and embedded itself in the muscles of my leg. A scream tumbled from my lips as I collapsed to the ground, hands clutching desperately over the heavily bleeding wound. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying hard not to cry as pain seared through my body. He shot me, he had actually shot me. I knew that I had gotten in the way, but I didn't think that he would've actually pulled the trigger. All these thoughts raced through my mind as I held onto the bullet wound in agony.

I didn't process anything that had happened after that. At some point I was lifted from the floor by some of the Joker's goons, but I passed out in their arms from the severe pain I was suffering. My throat was raw from screaming many times when I came back to consciousness. I blinked through blurred vision, desperate to clear my eyes as panic began to spark within me. I didn't trust anyone, not after the week I'd been living. When I could see clearly once more, I realised that I was resting on the bed that I had been sleeping on for the past few nights. The Joker's bed, in the Joker's room, at the Joker's warehouse.

I sat myself up, slowly as my whole body ached and was stiff. My bones felt like they had developed rust, how long had I been out? Memories of the catastrophic situation I'd just been involved in flooded my brain, and my heart began to hammer as three words circled my mind. He shot me. I carefully trailed my fingers up my leg, and soon enough a stinging sensation stopped them in their path. Hesitantly, I looked down at the gory sight. There was a hole in my leg, with dry and crusted blood outlining it. A small trickle of blood still leaked from the wound, and the more I looked at it, the worse the pain became.

I bit my lip, holding back fresh tears that threatened to spill. I felt so weak, crying over a bullet wound. But at the same time I knew it was understandable. My wound was untreated, and I was scared that it was going to get infected. But there was something more to the reason of why I was crying; I had never let pain get to me before. At least not physical pain. I knew it; I knew that I was developing more than mutual feelings for the psychotic clown. But I didn't want to admit to them, because even thinking the words I knew it sounded like I should be in Arkham myself. I couldn't help it; I was attracted to the clown and everything about him. I didn't even understand why. It was crazy to think that I had been able to become a psychiatrist when I couldn't even understand myself properly.

There was a second reason as to why I was crying, and that was because I was hurt-emotionally. I was falling dramatically and pathetically in love with the Joker and he had just shot me, without a care in the world. Why, why did I have to fall for the crazy one? All I knew about him was that he was a psychopath and a cold blooded killer. But there was that time when...when he got upset after realising that he had made me have a panic attack. That was a different man all together that I spoke to that day, and it was a conversation I wasn't likely to forget all too easily.

There was a brief knock on the door, which caused my head to snap up. I couldn't move to answer the door, and my throat burned too much to scream for them to come in, and so I simply remained silent. He came in anyway, calmly closing the door behind him. Familiar green hair pushed out of his face with completely fresh grease paint applied for his mask. "You shot me." Were my first words, to him and of the whole conversation. "You shot me you fucking bastard!" I found myself yelling within the second.

"I know." All my anger melted, and confusion rapidly replaced it. I wasn't expecting that, I was expecting anger and denial, but instead I got a full admittance.

The Joker crouched down in front of the bed, and slowly pulled off his purple gloves. "I'm glad to see that you're alive. You gave me quite the scare when you passed out. Thought I'd killed you." My head tilted to the side slightly, as confusion deepened within me. This man made no sense, but then again, neither did I.

"Well, you're still stuck with me." Instead of replying, the Joker dropped a medical kit on the bed before cautiously placing his hand on my bare leg. Someone had decided to take off my trousers and replace them with shorts, the thought was slightly disturbing.

I watched as the clown changed once again into a completely different person. He concentrated fully on my leg, and on causing me the least amount of pain. I noticed he was copying what I had done to him when I fixed his arm. While he was wiping away the blood from the bullet wound, it stung horribly; a question came to my mind. "How is your arm?"

"I'm trying to concentrate, doll."

"And I'm trying not to scream in pain, but I gotta deal with it. So tell me, how is your arm?"

"It's fine, healing well. Thanks to you." I nodded my head, leaving the conversation there.

I knew I was in for a run of pain. The bullet would've settled in my leg by now and so the Joker would be having fun digging that out of me while I squealed like a child. But there was no chance of me going to the hospital, even I knew that. Because then they'd take me away from the clown, and I didn't want that. So I settled for an hour or so of pure pain.

After cleaning away my bullet wound, the painful part came to when he had to get the bullet out. I passed out at one point from the pain, sweat dripped from my head as my body kept on consuming the endless agony. Coming back to reality in a panting blur, I saw that the Joker was stitching up my leg, seeming quite happy with his tidy work. The sheets had pools of blood on them, but we both knew that it could've been a lot worse. "There we go doll, you're all fixed."

"Thank you." The clown nodded, collecting several bloody tissues and other medical instruments before binning them and returning by my side.

"Will you be okay? Do you want some rest?" I nodded my head for return, tempted to ask him why he was being so kind but not wanting to ruin the beautiful moment.

I watched, like a lost girl, as the psychopath got up and left the room. He looked over his shoulder one last time before closing the door, and I found him mirroring the longing in my eyes. I didn't know how he felt about me, but I knew that I was falling for him. And how I felt about that, I really didn't know.


	15. Chapter 15

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Fifteen-Hot like wildfire

~Arabella Jones~

Fire. It was all I felt as I tossed and turned in the Joker's bed. The purple sheets were tangled between my legs as I panted and blew sweaty hair from my forehead, God I was so hot. Both of the pillows had been launched across the room in a fit of frustration, and I would've opened the window but a shiny new lock had been placed on it to stop me from escaping again. I didn't even leave through the window; I had actually calmly walked out of the door.

Groaning out loud, I pushed myself up from the laid down position and swung my legs off the bed. I was in the shortest shorts I had, and wore the thinnest tank top that I owned, but I couldn't cool myself down no matter what I did. My leg killed whenever I tried to walk, but I needed to move around and get something cold inside of my system. So I limped over to the door, before throwing it open and being wrapped in slightly cooler air.

I pulled my hair into a high ponytail while limping down the hall, trying my best to find my way to the kitchen. There had to be some form of food place, the Joker needed food and water to live, he was only human. My feet trailed blissfully over the cold, hard ground. I could almost see steam floating off of my body. I wasn't cool enough yet, I needed to have a drink and get into a cooler room.

Sneaking through the hallways, careful not to disturb anyone as it was two in the morning, I padded along the cold floor until eventually approaching a room that shone a bright light and contained everything a kitchen should. I carefully stepped through the open door, feeling a little safer as it was the most normal room that I had come across at my time in the warehouse. If anyone was to randomly arrive in this room, they wouldn't think it was in the Joker's warehouse. It was an intoxicating feeling, to feel as safe as I did right there and then.

I opened several cupboards before opening one that contained glasses. I rinsed out the cup-just in case, I couldn't exactly fully trust the man yet-before filling it with cool water. The glass was empty within seconds as, once I started drinking the blissful water, I couldn't stop while it dripped down my throat heavenly. I wiped over my mouth with the back of my hand, carefully placing the cup in the sink.

I was still wide awake and burning hot, and I was beginning to think that I was coming down with an illness. I pressed my wrist to my head, taking a deep breath and sighing heavily. I hadn't slept all night, and my leg was beginning to cause me agony. I limped over to the table that rested in the middle of the bright kitchen. I found myself out of breath and struggling not to cry by the time I got to the large oak table, and had to rest my hands on it to take the pressure off of my leg.

God I was in agony, I needed some form of pain killers for my swollen and irritated muscles. "You're in pain." A voice that was highly familiar, a voice that sent my heart into overdrive and yet oddly made me feel calm, spoke suddenly. I jumped a little, having not heard anyone approach. Turning my head to watch at the clown came closer to me, my heart sped up and stomach dropped.

"No shit." The words came out weak, and sounded more pained than I had planned. I hated admitting to being in pain, suffering in front of other people. It was humiliating, to be so weak and helpless.

The clown was right next to me now, and I could feel the heat radiate off of his skin. "You're hot."

"Excuse me?" I felt proud to hear genuine shock in the Joker's voice, but that wasn't what I had meant.

"Your skin, it's burning hot. I'm already boiling; feel like a real life radiator right now."

"You're not making any sense. You're actually freezing cold; you need to go back to bed." I tightened my fists, letting my head fall down so that my chin touched my chest as I bent over, feeling pain surge through me.

"I am not cold, I am burning. I am in agony, and I swear to god if you don't get me some pain killers I am about to stab you and take them myself." I spat the words through gritted teeth, no longer wanting but needing some pain relief.

The Joker walked out of my eye sight; all I could hear was shuffling and cupboards opening and closing. "What are you doing up at this time anyway?"

I asked, trying to take my mind off the pain.

"I could ask you the same, doll. I couldn't sleep, never really can these days." A glass was placed in front of me, along with a packet of pain relief. I pressed out two from their capsules, and swallowed them down with the water. I thanked the clown, waiting impatiently for the pain to subside.

I wanted to cry, to burst into a sobbing mess and break down. I wanted to scream and shout, to slam my fists onto the table and break everything in sight. I felt it bubbling up inside me, felt my throat swell and the pressure build in my eyes, this was what always happened before I was about to break. I tried my hardest not to cry, but the tears kept filling my eyes until they spilled over and dripped down my cheeks. A sob escaped my mouth like a choke, and that was when I was left with no control.

I caught out of blurred vision the clown hesitantly making his way closer to me. He seemed curiously sympathetic, like he was sorry for me but he didn't understand why I was crying or what crying was. The tears kept on coming; they wouldn't die away as I felt everything in me break. My heart shattered, my emotional tolerance was blown to smithereens and I fell apart like a broken plate. It got to a point where the clown was by my side once more. He was close enough to touch, but still cautious. As if he didn't want to scare me.

I was so sick of all this cautiousness. The hesitancy, it was driving me insane. I didn't want to be scared of him anymore, and I didn't want him to be scared of me. So while the Joker wasn't paying attention, I smashed myself against him and held on for dear life-sobbing as I did so. To be honest, I was done being alone. I needed someone to hold onto, someone to piece me back together while I fell apart in their arms. I didn't know if the Joker was that for me, but I held on as tight as I could for as long as I could.

And then the most curious, the most shocking and unexpected thing happened. I felt arms wrap back around me, and pull me closer. And like that, the clown himself was holding me, comforting me, calming me. And it was perfect. It was so perfect, it felt so good to be held, to be embraced in calming warmth and just be allowed to cry, to let all of my kept up emotions out and have someone there to just support me, to keep me together.

He held me. He kissed my head and rubbed my back. He comforted me in every way possible, and he didn't walk away. He stayed. I was aware of the fact that I was wearing barely anything, and that I could feel his cool hands on my bare skin. When eventually my tears slowed, and my sobs faded into continuous hiccups, that was when he pulled away. Not to leave, but to calm me into a normal state once more. The Joker looked into my eyes with concerned ones of his own, and there was something in his eyes that I'd never seen before and never thought I'd see. That clown, with his floppy green hair and pure white skin, big black eyes and a wide red smile, he was the most perfect clown I'd ever seen. He cupped my cheek with one of his hands; his touch was gentle and soft.

We stayed there for a little while longer, just watching each other, still touching in some form of way. He held onto my face, while I still held onto him-determined not to let him go. "The best thing I ever did was kidnap you." The Joker told me, laughing lightly at the irony.

"I wasn't lying, the other day. When I told you I had planned on coming back, I really had. But then Ivy came along and saved me from Scarecrow, and was determined on taking me back to the apartment with her. And then you came along. But if I hadn't had a run in with Scarecrow, if I was left to safely stroll the streets, it would've only been an extra five minutes or so before I came back, came home." I closed my eyes, sighing heavily. "I hate being so weak, especially in front of you."

The Joker didn't reply, instead I felt him pull me closer. I didn't think of what was going to happen, and so I stayed calm in his arms, eyes closed, awaiting whatever was about to happen. But then I felt something, something hot and new and amazing. A kiss, on the lips, from the Joker. It took me a couple of seconds of hesitation before pure instincts took over and, once they did, I found myself kissing him back. With pure, hot and white passion. I probably shouldn't have kissed him back, but I did. And it was one of the most memorable things that had ever happened to me, even there, in the moment, the event was repeating itself in my brain. I was kissing the Joker, he was kissing me, and neither of us were stopping.

My whole body was alight with fire. Everything about me, was lit up like a flame, the heat that I was feeling was like nothing like before. Every part of me was switched on, sparked like a firework. As cliché as it seemed, he was the spark that I needed. He made me feel alive, like I wasn't someone trapped inside someone else's plan, stuck in work all their life. I wanted freedom, I wanted exotic and crazy and adventure. I wanted fire, and every burning part of it. And that's what he gave me, that was what he was, he was the fire that melted the ice. I needed my ice melted. His touch, his taste, his smell and just everything about him, it was fire, and it burned, but I didn't care. In fact, I think I loved it.

I needed his kiss, his touch, his words; I needed the Joker that I never saw because he never showed his human side. Not unless he was with me. I needed him, and every crazy part about him. But there was a method to his madness, and maybe there was a method to the madness within me hoping that the kiss didn't end any time soon. Hoping that maybe this went a little further than a onetime thing, just out of pure pity. I wanted real, but did he? He was insane and deadly and someone I should've avoided and I'd fallen hopelessly in love with him and everything about him.


	16. Chapter 16

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Sixteen-Taken from the monster's den

~Arabella Jones~

I watched with mournful eyes as the clown in the purple suit trailed out of the kitchen in a dazed state. I couldn't understand what had just happened. One moment we were kissing, and it was hot and perfect and beautiful, so beautiful. And then the next moment, the kiss had just stopped. Just ended and the Joker was walking away from me. His head was down, shoulders slumped, and he seemed to be in a ghostly daze as he just left. Without looking back.

I felt as confused as he looked. Had I done something wrong? I could've sworn that he had kissed me first. Maybe he hadn't expected that of himself, or expected me to kiss him back? But to just leave me like that, standing aimlessly in the middle of the kitchen, that was cruel, even for a man like him. It felt like my heart should break, but at the same time I wanted to be strong and brave. I wasn't going to let it be, there was definitely going to be some form of discussion about that kiss. That kiss changed things, it meant something. He couldn't just leave me.

I wiped tears from under my eyes and cheeks that I hadn't even realised were even there. Sniffing to myself, I put everything away and wiped over my mouth. I had red lipstick on my lips from our kiss, a kiss that most likely meant nothing to the Joker. I shook my head, forcing myself to be strong and walk out of the kitchen with my head held high. I wasn't going to let him hurt me, or at least I wasn't going to show him or anyone else.

I moved quickly as I made my way back to the Joker's bedroom, praying to god that I didn't run into anyone. I just wanted to crawl into bed, and be left alone to wallow in my own misery. Why did I have to be so foolish? To develop such feelings for a man that would obviously only hurt me? I was an idiot, and probably belonged in Arkham myself. That was where all of the psychopaths who couldn't control themselves went.

Hating myself for being so weak, I wiped furiously under my eyes as more tears continued to stream down my cheeks. I was hurt, and I was witnessing immense pain that I had never felt before. The suffering in my leg continued to cause me hell as the pain only worsened in my heart. And it was all caused by the Joker. But, when I eventually reached the Joker's room, I was greeted by quite the surprise.

Somewhere on the purple sheets were three familiar and feminine figures. A woman dressed in all black, with killer flexibility skills, perched on the edge of the bed in a crouched position. Catwoman. Hanging upside down, with blonde pigtails and an adorable baby face, was Harley. And finally, sat upright on the bed in a tense position, was a green woman with fiery red hair who also had green vines tangled around her body. Poison Ivy. I stopped mid footstep, absorbing the curious picture in front of me. All of the girls shifted their eyes so that all attention was on me, and I felt incredibly uncomfortable.

I was first to speak but only because I got there first. "What are you doing here? The Joker will kill you if he finds you're in his warehouse, let alone his room!" My words spilled out of my mouth through gritted teeth, as I tried to keep my panicked voice low.

"You're coming with us." Ivy replied, blunt and deadly serious.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"The clown shot you; we all decided that you weren't safe here. So you're coming with us, we'll keep you safe." It was Catwoman who spoke this time, not Ivy. Her voice purred as she spoke, even the way she spoke was elegant and yet ferocious.

I shook my head, taking a couple steps back. "If you take me, he'll definitely kill you all. I-I can't risk that!" The truth was, I didn't want to leave. I wanted to stay, to talk to the Joker about the kiss and so many other things.

"What are we to you but pieces of meat anyways, huh? Like we mean anything to ya." Harley's face had gone a light shade of red by now, all the blood was rushing to her head.

"I treated both you and Ivy while in Arkham. And I've had a fair share of visits from Catwoman. I may not understand any of you, but I know you. And I don't put people I know in danger."

"You know yourself though, and yet you took a bullet for me." Harley replied, allowing me to understand that I had saved her life.

"That's different." The blonde girl, who looked a lot younger without her jester outfit, raised her eyebrows at me, telling me to continue. "I don't matter."

Catwoman got up suddenly then, approaching me with feline abilities. "Your leg is healing, slowly and painfully, but healing. How?" I didn't want to tell them that the Joker had sorted my leg for me, that moment seemed too special to share.

"I got one of the goons to give me a medical kit, did it myself. It didn't look like I was heading to a hospital any time soon." I had the ability to lie smoothly, the words pooled out of my mouth without any hesitation. She studied my face, before nodding her head and opening the window. It occurred to me then that the window couldn't have been opened, that it had a lock on it. And...how did they get in here?

I was too tired to question it, and my exhaustion only sunk further as I saw that the sun was beginning to rise in Gotham's sky. "Are you coming with us, or not?" Ivy spoke up again, rising from her position on the bed. It was the first time she'd spoken since the start of the encounter.

"Ivy, what you did hurt me. But I know that it had to be done. He threatened what you cared about most. Stop being so hostile." The words made a smile appear on both of our faces, as we relived the memory of our first session. "So I'm coming, and if anything goes wrong, we'll protect each other."

"Because that's what friends are for!" Harley chipped at the end, and I found myself grinning as the woman, who acted like a little girl, jumped around the room. The atmosphere just her presence created could bring out the inner child in anyone.

Ivy snaked solid green vines down the building, and all three girls began to climb down them. Hesitantly, I caught hold of one of the plants, careful not to grip too hard, and began to slide down. It broke my heart, knowing that-for the second time-I was abandoning the Joker. Leaving him without any form of explanation. I was tempted to climb back up the vines, just run back to him and promise him I would never leave him again, but my body continued to climb further and further away from the Joker and his room.

Reaching the bottom, I jumped the final part and landed with my knees bent. Catwoman jumped from a couple feet higher than me, landing in a crouched position. Ivy continued to snake her way down, with the vines guiding her gracefully. Harley was abseiling down the vines, hopping like a rabbit. When everyone was at the bottom of the vines, we began to walk away from the warehouse.

I put my hands over my face, feeling immense guilt settle in my stomach. This wasn't like last time; I had deliberately left him with no excuse. "What have I done? I'm going to get us all killed, he's going to be so hurt and so angry when he finds out. This is the second time, the second time, that I've abandoned him just because I felt like it." I ran my fingers through my hair, causing my ponytail to loosen and giving myself a crazed look.

"Chill, Bella. It's fine."

"I take it all of you know my name now?" I was trying desperately to distract myself from the guilt that was exploding within me like fireworks.

"Sure do. But, let's know more about you." Harley rested her arm on my shoulder, flashing me a grin.

I frowned to myself, not knowing what to say. "I'm twenty-two, I don't have a lot of contact with my family, no love life what so ever, barely even have a social life, and I've spent my whole life since I was twelve trying to become a psychiatrist." I shrugged my shoulders effortlessly, my fingers tying themselves into knots. There really wasn't much to me. I wasn't anything special, which is why I couldn't understand why I meant so much to the Joker. I must have meant something to him for him to go through all of these efforts in keeping me with him. And then there was that time when Catwoman said I meant something to Batman. It was all too confusing for me; I was too exhausted to bother with trying to piece the pieces of the puzzle together.

Harley dropped her arm from my shoulder, scratching her head. "Well you sure are something. First time anyone has ever taken a bullet for me. Never would've thought if from you."

"Thanks?" I laughed lightly and shook off Harley's words. She meant well, I'm sure. It became obvious then that we were heading back for Catwoman's apartment. What we'd be doing there, I had no idea.

All I knew was that, at some point, I'd be back with the Joker. Whether that was because I returned to him or he came for me, I didn't know. It wasn't like I could predict the future or anything. But all I knew was that it would end in tears and someone getting hurt. It always did with the Joker. I knew that I wanted to be back with him. I wanted to be held in his arms once more, taste his hot kiss that sent fire rippling up my spine and feel his fingers brush against my skin, sending electric shocks all over my body.

But that didn't look like it was going to happen any time soon. And so I followed the girls to Catwoman's apartment in a daze. Lost in my longing thoughts of the Joker, just simply following and not processing anything. I wanted to feel the heat, the hot fire that caused me blissful pain. The aching, burning fire that only he could cause. I wanted to go back to that moment, the moment that the kiss had ended, and stop him from walking away. I wanted to pull him back against me and kiss him harder, and I mentally kicked myself for letting him leave.

The sorrow that had I bubbled myself in was suffocating. I wanted to run back to him so badly, to just kiss him again and not care about anything else. But some part of me thought, knew, that this space was needed. I needed to clear my mind and know for sure that I was in love with the Joker, and that I wanted things to go as far as a second kiss. Because that would be a complete game changer, if I let him know that I wanted more, so much more.

No matter how hard I tried to shake the clown from my thoughts, he remained circling my brain all night. Even when the girls fell asleep, one by one, after hours of conversation and cups after cups of tea and coffee, he was still on my mind as I lapped the apartment, unable to sleep. I wanted him so bad, but I needed to be away from him more. And so, painfully, I stayed away from the Joker. Not sleeping or resting, but simply away.


	17. Chapter 17

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Seventeen-Attack of the Two Faced man

~Arabella Jones~

It was odd, seeing all of the girls without their war paint. Watching curiously as Harley bounced around the room in fleeced pyjamas, blonde pigtails flying around and not a scrap of make up on her face. Glancing every so often at Ivy, who wore her red hair in a tight bun and had a silk green cardigan resting over her shoulders. But the most curious one was Catwoman. The woman was relaxed against the wall, cropped black hair in the style of bed hair mess. Her body was covered by an all in one onesie, which was black with kittens on it. Her face was clear of any make up, and so she looked a lot younger than I had thought she was.

I looked down at myself, conscious that I was still in yesterday's clothes. My white shirt was creased and my trousers were a mess from constantly walking around. My hair was a complete wreck and I had black crescents under my eyes. "Hey Bella, did you even sleep at all last night?"

"No. I couldn't." I shrugged off Ivy's concern, clicking my neck to relive the stiffness. "So what are we doing today?" I asked, rapidly changing the subject.

"There's something I need to do whenever we're ready." Catwoman answered, her name was actually Selina Kyle, and Catwoman was her 'villain' name. "An old friend I need to visit." Her words were secretive and sly, making me question her actions.

Shrugging off whatever concerns I had about today's plans, I fiddled with the end of my shirt, hopelessly aware of the fact that I looked like a mess. "Want to borrow some clothes?" I glanced up at the graceful cat lady, but felt doubt drip into my stomach.

"Um...I don't think I could pull off anything you own." Even her onesie was skin tight and pulled in all of the right places.

"We'll find you something." Selina turned on her heels, and started jogging over to a room I hadn't been in before. I followed like a lost dog, sure that the following events would end up extremely embarrassing.

When I arrived at the black room, which had golden lights and a few cats sprawled on the bed, Selina was pulling out several pieces of clothing from draws and her wardrobe. "I see that you don't wear anything flattering. It's about time that you make yourself look good." She picked up a couple of bits of clothing from the bed and threw them in my direction. "Try these on. I picked something that was still...mutual but something that was...wow." I frowned at the clothing before turning to walk to the bathroom, slightly scared of what she had picked.

Dumping the clothes onto the floor, I saw that Catwoman had given me: a pair of black, skinny jeans with ripped knees, a tight fitting plain black top, black biker boots and a white denim jacket to cover my arms. I pulled on all of the clothes before looking hesitantly into the mirror. My hair needed sorting desperately, so I pulled in out of its ponytail before redoing it so I looked a little more...sane. Wiping over my face, unnecessarily as I didn't wear any make up, I pulled my ponytail tight once more before leaving the bathroom. I didn't exactly feel like me, I felt different. More...stronger and braver. Like a new and improved person, not the meek and mild psychiatrist that I was always portrayed as.

Leaving the bathroom, I prepared myself to face the music and watch the girls' reactions. When I arrived back in the main room, Harley was now in her jester suit, Catwoman was wearing her leather, black all in one and Poison Ivy was snaked in vines once more. "What do you think?" I threw my arms in the air, letting them fall by my side in a relaxed and uncaring position. I felt each of their eyes scan over my body, before receiving several nods of approval.

"Good, good. Now that everyone is ready, we need to go." Selina pushed the window open before jumping out of it. Ivy and Harley followed soon after, with me trailing behind them.

Catwoman was pouncing down several steps at a type, movement fast and hyper. Pamela was jumping from vine to vine, getting lower and lower every time. Then there was Harley, who was simply jumping over the banister of every set of stairs, landing gracefully on her feet. And then there was me, who was sprinting down the stairs, jumping several of the last ones. "You know, with a bit of training, you could become quite the criminal. You've got the ability for a quick escape already. Speed and flexibility, and I bet you have some strength on you. I know you've told me that you have heart issues, but with some training and help that can easily be solved." Ivy told me, one of her vines pulling her hair into an up-do.

"I'll take that as a compliment. And I take that as an offer, which I'll take you up on soon." It occurred to me then that I had been able to not worry about the Joker for the morning, but the second that thought came to me, dreading thoughts of the Joker flooded my mind. God, my heart ached for him. Every bone in my body craved to be back in his presence, but I knew that I couldn't go back to him. Not just yet.

Following the lead of Selina, I hung back with Harley as we roamed the bright, Gotham streets which were polluted with litter and graffiti. "I know that you feel something more for the Joker than you should." The jester remained to stare at the sky as she spoke, but every part of me knew that those words were for me.

"Harley, I-"

"Don't worry. I still love and care for the Joker, but he's never needed me. I was just there for him, and I accepted that. But he needs you; he's gone through so much effort to keep you. The clown is intriguing and his charm is irresistible. There was no way that a girl like you wasn't going to fall for him."

"I just...I can't explain it. Harley, it's just him, and everything about him. Everything about the Joker pulls me in, he's like a drug." I sighed and let my head fall back. "I probably sound like a love sick puppy."

"You do. But that's fine, I was like that back in Arkham when I first fell for the clown. But let me warn you, you're like a second me. Just don't fall for the same tricks I did. I don't think that he'll hurt you because he wants to, or use you like he did me, but if he does, then leave him. Otherwise you'll just be stuck, like I was. Before Ivy and Catwoman helped me. Now I'm just in love with the memories."

Lost for words by Harley's kind and reassuring speech, I simply nodded my head at the jester. "Black suits you, you know. We should let you join our little group. You can become a criminal with us. It'd be fun."

"You know what, Harley? I'd like that very much." I smiled at the jester, who squealed a little with excitement. Her joy was contagious; no one could be depressed or furious in the presence of Harley Quinn.

The conversation had taken longer than expected, and after a couple more minutes, we found ourselves approaching a large building. The bricks were faded, but the lights were on and working, proving that it was inhabited. "Where are we?" I asked, watching the building curiously.

"Two Face also managed to break out of Arkham. Selina's here to...have a few words with him."

"This isn't going to end well, you know that right?" I finished the words while joining Catwoman and Ivy, turning my head to face both of the women.

"Bella, it never does."

Without saying a single word, Selina began to sprint towards the building. However, instead of running for the door, she headed straight for the brick wall, pouncing up it like the cat she was. "Ivy, do we get to go after her this time?" Harley asked, hope clear in her voice. Obviously, they didn't usually get to chase after the crazy cat lady, and this didn't seem to be the first occasion that this had happened.

"No, Harley."

We all waited patiently for half an hour or so, as the cold wind blew against us with severe gusts. "That's it, I'm going in." Ivy threw her hands in the air in an angered gesture, storming ahead. Harley ran after her, hands out stretched like a lost girl. I jogged after them, not wanting to be left alone in a time like this. Vines and all manner of plants made their way up the building, anchoring themselves on whatever they could get a hold of. "Climb." Ivy ordered, jumping up the plants herself. Obedient, Harley and I started clawing our way up the building, both careful not to grip the vines too hard. It didn't seem like a good time to annoy Ivy, the anger rippled through her so hard that her body trembled.

The window was left open from Catwoman, and all three of us slid into the warmth simultaneously. Even Ivy sighed in bliss as heat coated us beautifully. The heat reminded me of certain someone that I craved, and I had to try with all my might to forget about him for the moment. I rolled my shoulders back, mentally preparing myself for anything. As a young girl, I had taken on several different classes in self-defence. Having a childhood like I did, and living in a place like I did, it was the smartest thing you could've ever done.

Tied to a post in the middle of the room, was an unconscious Catwoman with a heavily bleeding forehead. Before any of us could move to help her, dozens of men and women burst through the door, charging for us. Without thinking, Ivy, Harley and I prepared ourselves to fight and back each other up until the end. We were heavily outnumbered, but there was nothing we could do to change that apart from fight.

Ivy had her vines and plants for weapons, we all knew that she could summon all forms of poison, the most dangerous laid on her lips. Harley had her flexibility and hidden strength. I had my own hidden abilities. I took on the first man that got closest, grabbing hold of his wrist and twisting it with such force that I felt the bone crack. I then gutted him in the stomach and kicked him to the ground. He quivered on the floor in pain, and a small part of me felt severe joy as I watched mercilessly. The next attacker was a woman, thin and wiry. She cartwheeled around me, and after getting sick of watching her circle around me, I kicked out and sent her flying into the wall.

I was given a moment to check how the others were doing. I saw that Harley was taking on several men at once, and needed some support. I checked to make sure that Ivy was okay, and saw that a dozen men and women were hung by the necks by vines, and I knew that she was doing just fine. I sprinted over to Harley, jumping onto the back of one of the men. When I had a secure grip on his throat, I slammed my head into his, knocking him out cold. Everything went fuzzy for a minute, and my vision cleared enough in time to see a man, in a half burnt and half creased suit come out of the shadows. With half a human face, and half a monsters face, sickeningly graphic, Two Face approached closer and closer to the three of us-pleasure and amusement twisting his face into pure evil.

Two Face clapped his hands together, and like that, all of the men and women just stopped and left. Just stopped and simply walked away. Confusion spread across the faces of Harley and Ivy, before they saw Two Face, then anger took over. "Really, this is just too amusing. What are the chances? Poison Ivy, Harley Quinn, Catwoman and a newbie, all in one night. And I got a show." Before any of us could say another word, or make a move for Two Face, all of the lights went out. And soon after, I was knocked into unconsciousness. Falling to the ground with a thud, along with Ivy and Harley.


	18. Chapter 18

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Eighteen-Rescued by Batman Saved by the Joker

~Arabella Jones~

Coming back around into consciousness with blurred vision, I managed to make out two figures before me. One was easily recognised as Two Face, the grizzly sight of his half burnt face was unmistakable. The other figure was dark, a strong and wide build and was completely covered in black. He had pointed ears and a cape flew behind him. Blinking a couple of times, I was able to be sure that the figure was Batman. And it was.

Staying as quiet as I possibly could, I checked around me to see if the other girls were awake from their unconscious state. Ivy and Harley were still out, but Catwoman was awake, her whole body was tense against the pole that she was tied to and all of her attention was on Two Face and Batman. I focused myself back on the two men, who were simply standing and staring at each other, mouths barley moving as they murmured.

My head was pounding, and a sickly feeling rested at the pit of my stomach. I resisted the urge to sniff or cough, as I could feel the need boiling in my nose and throat. My hands were tied tightly with thick ropes that dug so hard into my skin, I felt it pierce skin. My feet were also tied together, and I was rapidly losing circulation as I couldn't even feel my toes. "Don't bother, they're tied tight." My head snapped up towards the approaching man, one who I had once thought was saner than his looks while I treated him. My hands and feet stopped trying to escape from their bonds, dropping helplessly.

Two Face cracked his knuckles, crouching down so that we were on eye level. I looked above him, and saw Batman hovering nervously behind him. I brought my eyes back down to the half human man. "As my psychiatrist, I never expected this of you. To not only break into my home, but to join that little trio and instantaneously become a little bitch of a criminal." I clicked my neck, trying my hardest to show that I wasn't afraid. If I could distract Two Face long enough to allow Batman the time to attack, I could possibly get out of here alive.

I remained silent, simply staring into the eyes of Two Face. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"

"I think you'll find that Catwoman hasn't got my tongue. Because if she did, then I couldn't do this." I spat on Two Face's burnt and crumpled side of the face, knowing that it would hurt much more than on the other. The man clutched at his face, stumbling back and groaning in pain.

"You little-" He was charging right for me with a raised hand, however he couldn't finish his words or actions as a large black figure charged at him from the side, knocking him away from me.

A yell came from Two Face, not from pain but from pure anger and hatred. I turned to see if Catwoman was still watching the men, and saw that she was actually looking at me. "That was brave. Stupid, but brave."

"I'll take that as a compliment." All of the yells from Two Face suddenly stopped, and I spun my head around to see his body lying limply on the ground.

"I didn't kill him." Said a husk and gravelly voice. "Just knocked him out, long enough for you girls to escape."

"You know," I said to the Bat who was untying Catwoman, "you're supposed to be locking us up, not rescuing us."

"Would you rather I sent you to Arkham or Blackgate?" He was now untying my ropes, and I caught Catwoman sauntering over to the limp body of Two Face.

"No, no. I was simply pointing out the irony. Superhero rescuing and freeing villains." I chuckled to myself, shaking my hands and feet to get the blood back to them.

I started untying Ivy's knots, while Batman got to work on Harley's. "This is the second time you've saved me; I hope this doesn't become a habit." The Bat remained silent, and so I simply rolled my eyes and continued to untie Pamela. When I next turned my head to face the Bat, there was nobody there. Harley was untied and laid on the floor; there was no sight of Batman. With Ivy's hands and feet untied, I got up and walked over to Catwoman. "Why did we come here, Selina?" The cat lady sighed, closing her eyes briefly.

"He did me wrong, I just felt like it was about time that I did some wrong to him."

"Understandable." With that, I left her in peace. Harley and Ivy were beginning to stir back into reality, and by time I had made my way back to them, they was fully awake. "You missed the show." I told them, helping them both up with a hand.

The girls remained silent, both wandering over to Catwoman with curious eyes. I watched each of them from behind, waiting for their reaction to Two Face's unconscious body. "Is the bastard dead?" Ivy asked, glaring down at him.

"No, not yet." Before another word was said, I caught a figure submerging from the shadows out of the corner of my eye.

"We got company!" I called out to the girls, horrifically aware that I was closest to the shadow.

But the monster I had expected to come from the shadows wasn't the kind of monster I feared. White face paint smeared so that skin showed through, vibrant red lipstick over his scars, faded black eyes that dribbled down his cheeks and sloppy green hair, the face of the monster sent my heart into overdrive. "So, what'd I miss?" He called out, arms raised in the air. He had his goons with him, and they soon followed out of the shadows after. Acting on pure emotion and instinct, not even thinking, I started sprinting with all of my force towards the Joker. Every step I took didn't take me closer to him fast enough, so I pushed myself harder and harder until I was close enough to wrap my arms around him and slam my body against him with aching force.

To my surprise, I felt the clowns arms wrap back around me. I felt the warmth of his face nuzzle into my neck as I held him tighter and pulled him even closer. "I'm so sorry." I whispered, clenching my eyes closed. "I swear I won't ever leave you again. I promise."

"Hush, Bella. I understand, I get it now." I was slightly confused by his words, but more relieved and happy to be back in his arms.

"Take me home, please." When I pulled back from the embrace slightly to look at his face, I saw his lips turn into a genuine smile.

"Anything for you, doll."

I dropped my arms, and held up a hand, telling him I just needed five minutes. Making my way back over to the girls, I took a deep breath. "Thank you, for everything. Don't worry; this isn't the end of us. We can pick up where we left off soon enough." Ivy wrapped her arms around me in a soft embrace.

"You better take me up on that offer." She told me, eyebrows raised. I let go with a light laugh, and found myself holding Catwoman.

"Batman cares about you." I said lowly, knowing that these words were important. "He came for you, he untied you first, and he does a lot for you. He didn't kill Two Face because of his rule, but he left him close enough for you." I pulled away from the hug, smiling at the cat lady reassuringly.

Finally, it came to the turn of embracing Harley. "Thank you, for being so understanding." She knew that my words were for the Joker.

"You love him with a feeling I never had. And he loves you, with a feeling I never saw." The jester nearly jumped on me, as she hugged me tight.

"I'll see you all soon, I promise." I told all three girls, turning away to walk back to the Joker.

When I was back in his presence, I nodded my head to let him know that I was ready to go back to the warehouse. I felt the clowns gloved hand take mine and, when I glanced at him, I saw his eyes focused on my thin fingers. We were leaving through the door, like a classic, victorious criminal. Neither of us spoke until we reached outside, where the Joker told his goons to go ahead and leave us be. "Do you want to know why you're special?" His voice had taken on a tone of vulnerability. I nodded my head, eyes trained on him. "You bring out Jack, the one I've hidden and locked away for so long. You bring out the human in me, the kind of guy that wants to protect and care for you." I felt my face flaming, I didn't know that I had that effect on the Joker.

I tightened my grip on his hand, causing him to look at me. I glanced around us quickly, and realised that we were closer to the Joker's warehouse than I had expected. We were only a minute or two away. "I need to know something. I'm aware it's a lot to ask, but I can't do this unknowing thing anymore, I'll lose the plot." A low chuckle left the Joker's mouth. "What?"

"It's just funny. You're not the sanest person, doll, and yet you always make these references to going crazy." I shrugged my shoulders, a sly grin on my face.

"Anyway, like I was saying. I need to know if we'll ever be...well anything more. I just, I don't know how you feel about me and it's driving me crazy because I feel something so strong for you." I tried to keep myself calm, but inside everything was racing and going crazy with the unknowing of his reply.

We were now back at the warehouse, and we were trailing up the steps that led to the double doors. "That night, when I kissed you. That was me telling you that you meant something more to me than anyone ever had before. You're one of the most beautiful and amazing people that I've ever met, and after a session or two of my therapy, I was in deep. And then you kissed back, and I just couldn't understand why. I never thought that you felt back for me, I...I just-"

"You don't have a way with words do you? But I understand. And I do, I do feel. If that makes any sense what so ever."

We were now rapidly approaching the Joker's room, and I was so scared of him leaving. I'd just got him back, I didn't want him to leave so soon. "Stay with me." I asked him, practically begged him, as we stood in front of the all too familiar purple door. "Just...stay." I felt one of his purple gloves cup my face, and I stared into his dark and intense eyes. He nodded his head once, and that was when I knew for sure. I was truly and madly in love with the Joker, and he was just as insanely in love with me.


	19. Chapter 19

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Nineteen-Your scars are beautiful

~Arabella Jones~

I hung upside down on the bed, feeling pressure rise in my head and face as all of the blood rushed to it. My hair was crushed against the floor, and I found myself giggling and laughing as everything hung off of the ceiling like a bat. It probably didn't do any good for my health, considering the fact that I had enough issues getting blood around my body fast enough without making it all drain to my head. The black top that Selina had leant me wasn't quite tight enough to stay in position, and so it rested by my chest, showing my stomach off. I didn't care, right at that moment; the inner child within me was alive and playing. My legs kicked up in the air as I tried endlessly to balance myself, and I was well aware of the fact that my face was rapidly getting a darker and darker shade of red.

If I didn't get up soon, the pressure in my veins (mainly) would build and build from the blood until they popped. That wouldn't be very good, as I'd most likely die. With the chilling thought running through my head, I pulled myself up and rested against the wall that sat next to the bed. The Joker had left the room, promising to return within a couple of minutes. One of his goons had rudely disturbed us mid conversation, while I told him about my ironic fear of clowns. "Don't worry." I had told him. "You don't scare me in that way; clowns frighten me because I always have to question them. Why do they always smile? What is with the face paint? What are they really hiding behind the mask and under all of the colourful clothing and wigs? But I don't have to question you." I had explained in a desperate attempt to reassure the Joker. "With you, there's a reason and understanding, no matter how crazy it is."

"There's so much to you that I don't know. But I want to. Really, I want to know anything and everything about you." The clown had simply replied, and that was all he could get in before a knock rudely disturbed us.

Now, I was rolling around on the bed, bored out of my mind. I wanted to change as, although Catwoman's clothing may be flattering, my clothing was far more comfortable. I rolled off of the bed, and crawled over to the wardrobe, slowly making my way up until I stood once more. I pulled out a skirt, and it was the only time anyone would ever see me in one. Deciding to go for the usual outfit of a vest along with the skirt, I dropped the clothes on the bed and started to change. I dropped the black top onto the floor with a sigh, feeling my skin tingle as the cold pricked at it. "My, my. But, haven't we met not so long ago?" My body jolted at the unexpected sound of a voice, before relaxing after realising who it was.

I shook my head at the clown, who was leaning against the door frame. I felt his eye scan my body, which was now only covered by a black, cotton bra and a pair of black, ripped knee jeans. I avoided making eye contact, persuading myself to feel comfortable in his presence. I had never been one to 'show off' my body, and I found myself always wearing oversized, well covering, clothes. No wonder Selina said that my clothing was unflattering. I was hideously aware of the fact that I didn't look all that good. I still hadn't slept, and so I was left with black marks under my eyes and pale skin. I had obviously injured my leg more by doing all of the jumping and running and fighting with the girls, but hadn't noticed because of the adrenaline that had rushed through me at the time. Now it ached dully and was a constant reminder that I should've rested instead of jumped and climbed out of buildings.

I felt hands press against my prominent hips and hot breath against my neck. "Now, you can't just tease me like so." The door was now closed, and I found that it was indeed the Joker who had his hands rested on me. He slid his bare fingers up my naked waist before wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me closer to him. A shiver rippled down my spine not just from the mix of heat that came from the Joker and the cold of the natural air. A kiss was placed upon my neck, before slowly trailing up onto my jaw, and then my cheek. I didn't know how far this would go, or where it was even going. But I knew that I loved and cared for the Joker, and I knew that he felt similarly. And so I let it go as far as it did. And I didn't have one regret.

My eyes fluttered open against pale moonlight. It was late afternoon or early evening when we had gotten back to the warehouse. I took in the most amazing picture in front of me, something I had never thought that I'd see before. It was the Joker, but at the same time it wasn't. Most of his grease paint and make up had rubbed off, so his face was practically all skin. His green hair was a mess, tangled against the pillow. There were traces of black sunken into the creases around his eyes and faded smudges of red lipstick on his lips and scars. The white paint on his face was so rubbed off, that there was merely only minor patches here and there in hidden places.

He looked so peaceful when he slept, eyes closed and face ridden of any stress creases. The sheets only covered up to his lower abdomen, and so his well-structured chest laid bare against the coolness of the room. I looked down at myself, and realised that I was just as bare as he was, and then beautiful memories flooded my mind. I felt my heart rate speed up, butterflies developed in my stomach and I couldn't picture anything more amazing than what had happened not so long ago.

I reached up an arm, my mind now a little more under control. I traced over his gorgeous scars with my thumb. The skin was soft, yet lumped as if aggravated. Using only one thumb, I trailed up the scars on the right side of his face, and then down to see if the texture felt any different. And then he woke up. It was a subtle and slow thing, his eyes fluttered and a small smile picked at his lips. I stopped in my tracks, and a frown replaced the smile. "Don't stop." The Joker whispered quietly, opening one eye. I laughed lightly before moving my hand to the other side of his mouth, trailing my thumb over his lips as I did so. I watched as a shiver rippled over his body.

Jack had closed his eyes once more, and so I carried on trailing over his lips but didn't begin to trace his scars. Instead, I placed a soft kiss on his lips, eyes closed and hoping for the best. I felt him kiss back, and electric shocks shook my body. He pushed me onto my back, and so I linked my arms around his body and neck. The kiss deepened. Everything was getting heated once more; pure passion was controlling everything that happened between us. And then, someone knocked on the door.

We both groaned out loud, the kiss breaking as we waited patiently for the person to go away. They knocked again, and that's when I decided to do something. "Wait, okay." I told him, gently pushing the Joker off of me and back onto the bed.

"Don't take too long, doll." I wrapped one of the many sheets around my body like a strapless dress before jogging over to the door.

Like suspected, it was one of his goons. The goon seemed shocked to see me answer the door the way I did. "What do you want? Can't you see I'm busy?" I raised my eyebrows, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Uh-I need to speak to the boss."

"He's not here." I lied simply, shrugging my shoulders. The goon tried to push the door open further, and look around me. I shoved him back by the chest, glaring at him. "He's not here. Go away you imbecile!" And with that, I slammed the door in his face.

I strolled back over to the Joker, dropping the sheets before climbing back into bed. "That was amusing."

"Hey, I just bought us some extra time." I replied to his sarcastic comment, laying my head back down on the pillows.

"I know." Jack pressed a soft kiss to my neck and I felt my body hum with delight. "And I'm grateful for it. I just love the way you say 'imbecile' though."

The rest of the evening, following into late morning, was spent with us lying in bed, either kissing or something more. Sometimes we slept, other times we simply held each other. Either way, I wouldn't have wanted it any other way. It was a joy, to spend those hours, cupped in the Joker's arms, enveloped in bliss. "Your scars," I said to him, while simply resting my head on his chest. "They're beautiful." My fingers were absentmindedly trailing patterns onto his stomach, eyes getting lower with the peace and relaxation within me.

It was quiet for a moment. "How's your leg doing?" The Joker asked me while trailing his fingers over the few stitches that remained.

"It's healing well, all thanks to you." I replied, holding back a giggle as his soft touch was ticklish. "And your arm?"

"All that's left is a scar." I pushed my head up, trying to see if that was a bad thing or not. I caught his arm and twisted it a little, so that I could see the scar clearly. I placed a soft kiss to his arm, before resting my head back on his chest.

"Every scar you have is beautiful. I love them, as much as I love you." The words were a big risk; telling the Joker that I loved him was a huge thing for both of us.

I waited patiently for a reply, well aware that it was a lot for the Joker to process. His fingers curled a piece of my hair around themselves; he seemed to have been deep in thought. I thought that he was never going to answer, and my heart began to go crazy as panic settled at the pit of my stomach. And then he said it. "I love you too, Arabella doll."


	20. Chapter 20

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Twenty-Patchwork isn't my speciality

~Arabella Jones~

I had found myself, once again, in the current state of having to wait patiently for my dearest Joker to return. He had to leave suddenly, when one of his goons had clearly reminded him about a certain 'plan' they had. Something bad, something criminal like, no doubt. With one last, deep kiss from the clown, he pulled on his clothes and left me tangled in the purple sheets, with a promise to return within the hour. My whole body was left humming as I watched him go.

Now, I was strolling around the warehouse, completely bored out of my mind. I was approaching a wall that had a clock on it, and when I saw the time, my heart sank. "You're late." I whispered, rolling my eyes to myself. Shaking my head slightly, I turned on my heels and started making my way back to the Joker's room. I still found it unbelievably hard to call his room my own, I couldn't understand why. I hadn't exactly been paying attention to where I was while I wandered around the warehouse, and felt my heart rate pick up as I couldn't find my way back. I had spent so long in the bedroom, that I had barley learnt my way around.

I kept on winding through the corridors, panic sparking in my veins. I realised then how stupid I was being. I felt fear, because I used to fear the Joker finding me out of the room. But it was different now, I didn't need to feel fear or panic, and as this thought processed through my brain, all the panic within me died. I wanted to kick myself for being so stupid, I didn't need to be scared of the Joker anymore. Something within me, something right at the back of my mind, questioned if maybe there was another reason to my fear, if it didn't come from the Joker.

It hit me where I was then, metaphorically. I recognised the stairs I was approaching, and the large double doors, from the first time I had left the Joker. Relief settled through me, and I decided to take a seat on the steps and wait patiently for the clowns return. The steps were cold and hard; they were uncomfortable to sit on. A sudden craving began to take over me while I waited. I wanted the Joker back, to be back in his presence, to feel the safety that only he could make me feel, and all of the other...stuff that sparked explosions within me.

Still, it took him another hour before he, and all of his goons, came stumbling through the double doors. By then, I was on the verge of having a panic attack. While I waited, and waited, frightful thoughts of what could've happened to him had been racing through my mind. I was a trembling mess, wide eyed and heart racing. My stomach was tied into knots, ones that left me with a sickened feeling. As soon as the Joker was stood upright, I held onto him as tight as I could, reassuring myself that he was okay and that he was alive. "You scared me." I said breathlessly, feeling tears prick my eyes.

The Joker had taken it as a joke, I assumed, as he seemed to be chuckling while he pulled me away. But when he saw the tears in my eyes, threatening to spill, his face changed into something serious. His purple gloved hand cupped my cheeks, pulling me against him once more. "What did you think had happened to me?"

"You're an hour and a half late, I thought-I thought you'd died or something!" One, hot tear trailed down my cheek as I tried desperately to regain control of myself.

"I'm not going anywhere, anytime soon. I promise."

I realised then that my hand was resting on something wet, warm and sticky. "Oh my god." I pulled back from the embrace to look at my hand, which was soaked in blood. "What happened?" I pushed the Joker to the side a little, gazing at the bleeding wound on his waist.

"It's just a little accident." I gently put my fingers on the cut, and heard the clown hiss in pain.

"Yeah right." I simply replied before taking his hand and beginning to walk to the same room that I had first patched him up, motioning for the goons to follow.

I kept looking back nervously at the Joker, seeing the skin beneath his white paint pale. As soon as we were back in that dark, gloomy room where blood stained equipment still rested on the table, I pushed the Joker onto the comfortable sofa before turning to one of the goons. I saw then that they were all injured too. "Okay...okay...okay right. One of you needs to get me as many medical kits as you can. I need clean equipment because I am not infecting or killing any of you by using these." I was throwing the bloodied tweezers and other equipment away, but I hadn't heard anyone moving. "Go, now." I watched as a couple goons dispersed out of different doors and into different areas.

While they were busy collecting my medical kits and equipment, I returned to the ghostly Joker who sat half-conscious on the sofa. "You're losing too much blood, shit." My fingers fumbled at the buttons of his many layers, ordering him to take them off as painlessly as he could. I saw he had an amused smile on his face while he watched me, and only he could find entertainment from his own injury. While the Joker was carefully shrugging off his blue, hexagonally patterned shirt, the goons all returned with different things. They had brought a lot of medical kits and equipment with them, and it looked like I'd be needing the whole lot.

I briefly thanked all them, telling them that they'd have to wait patiently as this would take a little while. I took a seat next to the Joker, focusing all of my attention on him. He had gotten his shirt off now, and I was left to face the grizzly sight. "How did this happen?" I inquired while applying antiseptic to a white cloth.

"Glass cut me from a mini explosion and-" his words were cut off and replaced by a hiss as I gently placed the cloth onto his wound. "It must've gotten worse as I carried on."

"Carried on doing what?" I folded the cloth and picked up a pair of tweezers and a metal tin from the table. There was gravel and glass in his wound; I would definitely have to look around for any hidden fatalities.

"I'm not dragging you into it, doll."

I left the questions there, deciding to focus on removing all of the dirt from his wound. I picked out several shards of glass, large and covered in blood. When I glanced up at the Joker, I caught him watching me with an easy smile. I returned the small smile with my head down, but couldn't help the worry that boiled in my stomach at the sight of how pale he was getting. "You willing to take pain killers this time?" I asked, biting my lip as I gently tugged a bit of gravel from his wound. The Joker yelled, resting his head back on the sofa.

"Never taken pain killers before, never will, Doc."

"Maybe someone needs to hit you around the head; it makes the victim go all fuzzy." There was no reply from the clown, and for a split second, I thought that he had passed out. But then he squirmed against my picking tweezers, and so I knew that he was at least conscious.

There were several pieces each of glass and gravel in the metal tin by the time that I couldn't see anything more in the wound. I picked up the white, blood stained cloth with antiseptic on it once more before gently dabbing it on the empty wound. There was no moan or groan from the Joker this time, and when I glanced up to check on him, I saw him gazing ahead in a dazed state. I needed to sew up his wound, and fast. I threaded the needle, and pricked his skin with it. I pulled the skin tightly together, frightened of the wound opening once more. While stitching up his injury, I saw out of the corner of my eye a syringe with a needle. When I finished stitching up the Joker, I cut the thread and picked up the syringe.

On closer examination, I saw that it was labelled as 'Morphine'. One look at the Joker's sickly wound, pale skin and dazed eyes, and I decided to give it to him. I gently pressed on the syringe, and a small amount of morphine squirted out. I had to test that it worked. "What are you doing?"

"You're going to hate me for this, but I don't care." As soon as I finished those words, I caught the Jokers wrist and pressed the needle into one of his protruding veins. I pressed the liquid into him, and within seconds I saw a sigh escape from the clown's lips. He'd feel better with that in his system, and I felt better about patching up the others.

By the time I had bandaged up all of the goons, and had sent them off to return to wherever they stayed, the Joker was sleeping peacefully on the sofa. There was no sign of pain on his handsome face, and all I could do was stare at the picturesque sight before me. I tipped the tray that had all of the bloody medical equipment on it in the bin, before tidying up the table a little. When that was done, I crouched down in front of the Joker, and placed a hand on his forehead. "Temperatures low. Colour has come back into his skin and cheeks. He'll be okay." I pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, before getting up and leaving the room quietly, not wanting to disturb his peaceful slumber.

I made it back to the room without passing out. When I got to the bed, I simply tossed all of my bloody clothes onto the floor and climbed onto the purple sheets in merely just my underwear. I was drifting into a heavy sleep within minutes, but concerned thoughts of the Joker continued to bother my mind. Eventually I slept, because the next time I woke, the room was noticeably darker. The reason I woke was because a warm body was climbing into bed with me. I recognised the scent of gunpowder and greasepaint, and felt familiar bare skin press up against mine. "You're heating up again; I should get you some more morphine." I told the Joker while resting my head on his chest.

"Sleep, you're tired, Bella." He replied, just as sleepily.

We both slept, embraced in each other's arms and heat. I didn't know how much pain the Joker was in, but I was there if he needed me. And I knew that he was there if I needed him. That was how we worked. We weren't the sanest of people, but that's just how it needed to be from time to time. Everyone needed a little crazy in their life; otherwise it just wouldn't be any fun. And being with the Joker certainly was fun. Sometimes, it takes two messed up people to make a normal relationship.


	21. Chapter 21

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Twenty One-Girl's night out

~Arabella Jones~

I had tasted something addictive, had gotten hold of something that I just couldn't let go. Never had I asked or wished or even dreamed of finding someone like him. Someone who completed me. He was perfect, every crazy and horrifying part of him, was perfect and a drug to me. The warmth he brought to my life was heavenly every time we touched. I hadn't realised how cold and dull and empty I was, until he came along. If Scarecrow ever asked me if I was fun yet again, I could finally turn around and say that I was.

I trailed my fingers up the Joker's bare back, watching his skin prickle from goosebumps. "Bella." The clown moaned, rolling over off his stomach and onto his back. I rested myself on my elbow, so that I could see a better view of my psychotic clown. He stared back up at me, fingers knotting themselves in my hair. "Do you want to leave the warehouse?" Confusion spread over my face, and hot panic hit my stomach.

"Do...do you mean like, like leave for ever? Or leave and, and come back?" The Joker rolled his shoulders back deliciously, shooting me an expression that said 'both, one or the other, I don't mind'.

I slumped back down onto the bed, resting my head on his shoulder. "I hope you're just asking, and you're not subtlety hinting at something." I said quietly, feeling the Joker's fingers trail down my hair and closer to my back. "I would never leave the warehouse voluntarily, the only way I'd go was if you forced me, and even then I'd be leaving kicking and screaming." I was rewarded by a kiss on the head for my words, and my sly humour. "But to leave and come back, I would. Granted, I wouldn't go long. But I like it, the fresh-ish air and seeing other people. Not that you're not completely satisfying." It was my turn to press a kiss to the Joker, and it just so happened to be on his neck.

The Joker rolled over a bit, so that he hovered above me. His green hair tickled my face, and he'd recently had to apply fresh greasepaint, meaning that whenever we kissed or touched, I got covered in white or red or black. But I didn't care nor mind. "You're perfect, you know that right?" He told me, voice husky, before ducking down to place a heated kiss onto my lips. My arms laced themselves around his neck, pulling him closer.

"You know," I said, breaking the kiss for air, "I'm pretty sure that this is all we've practically done for about the past three days." My lips were turned up into a grin, while the Joker chuckled lowly.

There was a rapid knock on the door which stopped us both mid kiss. "I'm going to kill whoever's at that door." I giggled at the Joker's words, before sliding out of bed in my bra and underwear. Maybe it would scare whoever it was off. I opened the door, ready to tell whoever it was to go away in a less polite way. But instead of one of the Joker's goons, it was a familiar red head with an obsession for plants. "Oh my god, Ivy!" We were embraced like little girls, squealing and holding tight.

"Am I disturbing something or...?" She asked, glancing between my practically bare body and the Joker, who was only covered to the waist by purple sheets. He raised his eyebrows at us, watching intently.

"What are you doing here?" I avoided answering the question, feeling my face heat up a little.

"I was going to ask if you wanted to come out, have some girly time. I mean, he's had you for like three days now." I laughed lightly at the impatience in Ivy's voice.

I turned on my heels to pick my clothes up from the floor before leaning against the door frame to the Bathroom. "By girly night out, you do mean killing someone or doing something...criminally...right?"

"Yeah, what else?" I rolled my eyes before closing the bathroom door. I needed to change and freshen up; I probably hadn't had a shower for quite some time. On the bright side, I still smelt like the consuming scent of the Joker, that was something I couldn't moan about.

Leaving the bathroom, I pulled my ponytail tight. I strolled over to the Joker's bed before crouching down carefully. "You okay with me going?" I asked quietly, staring into his dark and intense eyes.

"Come home soon, and alive. Promise me." He replied, now turned onto his side.

"I promise." I pressed a gentle kiss to the Joker's lips, before getting up and leaving with Ivy. With one last glance over my shoulder, I closed the bedroom door. It occurred to me then, that Ivy shouldn't have been able to get into the warehouse. I'd ask her about that later, and decided to focus on simply going wherever we needed to without playing twenty one questions.

However, that wasn't Ivy's intention. Within thirty seconds of being out of the warehouse doors, the plant lady began buzzing out with several questions, barley giving me time to answer. "So, are you two a thing now?" She inquired, shooting me a questioning look.

"I guess you can say we are." I replied, not wanting to tie the clown down.

"Have you spent the whole three days together?"

"I wouldn't say it's been a whole three days but...practically yeah." It was cold outside, and so I found myself rubbing my arms to warm them up.

"Do you love him?" I stopped in my tracks, mouth agape in a small hole.

"Umm...I-um..." I felt my face heating up, and a tingling sensation bubble at the pit of my stomach.

"Oh my...you do!"

"Can we just-"

"You love him!"

"Okay! I do! Fine, yes I'm pretty sure I love him." We hadn't made it far from the warehouse, and so I began to speed up my pace in hope of making Ivy hurry.

My ponytail whipped my face against the wind. The temperature was rapidly decreasing, and I was shivering so hard that my teeth chattered against each other. "Where are we going exactly?" Ivy informed me that we weren't joining the others, and that we'd be simply going just the two of us. She then told me that we were heading for Batman. She said she knew where to find him. "What if I don't want to fight Batman?"

"Too bad." She shrugged her green shoulders, vines snaking up her back to twist her hair out of her face. There really was no reasoning with Poison Ivy.

After about half an hour of walking and finding ourselves hopelessly lost, Ivy and I arrived at a large, abandoned warehouse. "What's Batman doing here?" I inquired, gazing up at the dark building.

"It doesn't matter, all that matters is that he's here."

"Ivy I really don't-" The lunatic who was obsessed with plants silenced me with a glare that could shatter glass and cut through brick. I was well aware of the fact that she was up to something, and deep down I didn't trust her one bit. But I was here now, and so I was going to just have to deal with it.

Thick, green vines began to slide up the building, hooking themselves onto whatever they could. We both started to climb, knowing that now wasn't the time for words. Against the sweat of my palms and the chlorophyll of the plants, by the time I had gotten to the top and had slid through the broken window, I had green smears covering my hands. I rubbed my palms against my jeans, trying to slow down my speeding heart rate. Ivy slid through the shattered glass moments after I did. Without so much as a murmur, she continued ahead for a solid oak door. I followed soon after, completely blind in this situation which gave me the chills.

Entering another big room that looked exactly like the previous one, I immediately spotted the dark, bat-like figure. And he wasn't alone. "She doesn't know why we're here. That's between us." Ivy called out to Batman, having also seen him.

"So why bring her?"

"To distract your little friend, Robin." I had heard that Batman had a little...sidekick named Robin. He was a young boy, and on closer examination I could guess that he was only around fifteen or sixteen.

"Ivy...what are you up to?" I asked in more of a uncaring way than a worried, attention still focused on the smaller boy who leaned against the wall.

He wore a variety of different colours; most of them were red, black and green. Those colours, however, I associated with the Joker. Why...why would he copycat the Joker? "Ivy, why does the little Robin wear the same colours as my clown?" I called out, quickly glancing between him and Ivy.

"Oh, I don't know. Just fight him already."

"Excuse me?" I was supposed to fight him? But the boy was only a boy, he was only sixteen-maybe less!

"Just fight him already?" Ivy sounded as if she had issues of her own, and listening further I heard a body slam to the ground. So, Batman had begun to settle whatever it was between them.

I turned my head back to Robin, and at the thought of him wearing the Joker's colours once more, I felt my mind slip into a different state. With my head tilted to the side, I approached the boy slowly. "I've never seen you around before." He spoke for the first time, submerging from the shadows and off of the wall. "You don't look like a criminal." We were within fighting distance now, but I continued to walk until I was centimetres from his baby face.

"Didn't you know?" I met his eyes with a steady glare. "Looks are deceiving." And with that, I slammed my head against Robin's. He yelled out loud and tumbled back, clutching his head.

I was a little fuzzy myself, but not as bad as he would've been. "Now, I know you should never start with the head, as it makes the victim go all fuzzy and then they can't feel the next hit as bad. But..." I shoved Robin back so that he toppled to the ground. "This is just too much fun." I turned my back for the moment wondering if Ivy was okay or if she needed my help. They must've taken the fight to the other side of the room, because I could hear the grunts and the yelps of pain still but I couldn't spot them against the shadows.

It was a mistake, and the little Robin boy decided to take advantage and kick my feet from under me. I fell to the ground with a thud, my back immediately aching from the solid ground. "Ooo, that's new." I laid on the ground, heaving in deep breaths while I waited for the double vision to merge into one once more. Robin made the mistake of crouching down next to me, whether it was to help or hurt me more, I didn't care to decide. I slammed my fist into his guts, sending him falling to the ground. Rolling onto my stomach, I cracked my neck and crawled so that I straddled the little Robin boy. "Now, now, I know this is so very sudden, but I'm confident in the fact that we could do this for a long, long time." I rested my arms on Robin's neck, and watched in amusement as his face rapidly turned a dark shade of red. His arm flailed about in attempt to pull me off, but my grip and position was strong.

Distracted once more but the concern for my fellow friend, Poison Ivy, I turned my attention so see if she needed help. Unable to find her, I felt the worry sink further into the pit of my stomach. The distraction had given Robin an opportunity that he just couldn't miss, and so I felt a solid fist connect to my cheek, and the loss of balance caused me to tumble off of Robin and onto the ground. I rolled over into a crouched position, and felt the playfulness die within me, rapidly replaced by sheer anger.

Standing up, I felt warm liquid trickle down my face. "You mimic my Joker by using his colours. You believe that I am no criminal. You make bleed. Believe me; you'll be lucky to walk out of here alive." I cracked my knuckles, strolling closer and closer to Robin. "But that wouldn't be much fun, would it now? If I killed you, because then we couldn't do this again." When I was right in front of Robin, so close that I could see the sweat on his forehead, I pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Not today, Robin boy. Ivy, let's go!"

"I'm finished anyway." The plant lady sauntered out from the shadows, heading straight for the window. Blood trickled from her head and there would defiantly be bruising on her green skin at a later date.

Jumping out of the window after Ivy, it finally hit me what had just happened and what I'd just done. Oh, the criminal life. It was just so much fun.


	22. Chapter 22

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Twenty Two-Truth be told

~Arabella Jones~

I felt myself drifting further and further into the hungry hands of insanity each and every day that I was with the clown. I didn't care, if I was completely and utterly honest I quite enjoyed the fact that I was becoming more and more like the crazy clown every day. It gave life a trill that, once you had tasted it, you couldn't live without. Nothing was ever different with him, and yet nothing was ever the same. Every day, the emotions that I felt when I was around him, when we touched or spoke, they never changed. And yet the daily routine was never the same, it would always keep you on your toes.

My legs rested upwards against the wall in the Joker's bedroom while my head pressed against the floor. My body rested upside down on the bed, and it occurred to me then that I had found myself in the same position a lot. The Joker himself was in the room-for once. He sat crossed legged on the floor, facing me, staring right at me. "Tell me something true, something I don't know about you."

"Like what, doll?" I watched in pure fascination as the Joker leaned forward, just a little bit, head tilted to the side.

"Like...like something no one else knows. Something you trust me with." The clown in the purple suit now leaned fully forward, so that his elbows rested on the ground with his head resting on his knuckles.

I climbed down from the bed, feeling pressure reduce from my reddened face. I crawled over to where the Joker sat, feeling his eyes bore into me the whole time. Mirroring his position, I licked over my bottom lip and raised my eyebrows. "Well?"

"Tell you what, Bella. You tell me something deep and dark about you, and I'll return the favour afterwards."

"But that's not fair, I asked first." My lips pouted, mockingly. "But, okay." I didn't exactly know what to say, there were a lot of dark things about me but did I want the Joker to know? And then I realised what this had become. It had become a loyalty trial, a trust test. Without even thinking about it, I had given the Joker the option of testing me, and for me to test him.

I removed my head from my knuckles, and sat up straight. "You want something dark; I'm going to give you something very dark indeed." I focused on my clenched hands, which were intertwined with each other. "When I was younger...about fourteen shall we say, I came very, very close to killing someone. You see, I have this thing. I have to have control, I have to be right and superior and bigger and better than other people. I can't let anyone get to me or hurt me, and so when people do, it affects me hugely. It can go two ways. I either get extremely upset or extraordinarily angry.

With you, I got upset and had a panic attack, that day in the cell you scared me so much it sent me over the edge. With this boy, it was anger. Pure anger, something that rarely shows with me. You see, this boy tried to outsmart me. He tried to make himself look all big and bad against me. One very important thing about me, you shouldn't pick a fight with me when you can't win it. It's like with my sister, but that's another story.

Anyway, this boy tried to make me feel small. Tried to make me feel like I was nothing compared to him, a mere bug of which he could crush easily. So, instead of standing there and letting him do this to me, I reacted. Badly. There was this fight, because hell did the boy know how to fight back. But I won. Fractured bones, broken nose, collapsed lung, broken ribs and a concussion. The hospital said that they nearly lost him. And then there was me, sat at the hospital with a bloodied nose and a sprained wrist and ankle, a couple bruises but nothing compared to him.

I guess that the darkest part of this little story is that I nearly killed a boy with my bare hands, and I felt nothing. No regret, no sorrow or sadness for him and his family. I still don't. He asked for it, and the more he hurt me, the more he tried to outdo me, and so the more I hurt him. He shouldn't have picked a fight with someone he couldn't win against."

My story was finished, and so I simply closed my mouth and kept my eyes on my knuckles. I knew that it wasn't the darkest tale, I had far darker, but it was enough for now. There were a couple moments of silence before the clown spoke, and his words shocked me to say the least. "You know, every time I think I know you, you go and make me feel like I know nothing at all, all over again."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No, no that's quite the good thing. Very good indeed. No one has that ability against me, that effect on me. It's quite interesting to feel and witness." The Joker's words were calm and kind, reassuring me that I hadn't scared him.

"So, I haven't scared you away or anything like that, have I?"

"It's amazing what you told me, I didn't think you would've had that in you but now I know you do, and I'm quite impressed indeed. So no, you haven't scared me away at all. All you've done is simply pulled me in more." My body warmed at his words, my heart accelerated to an unbelievable speeding rate.

It was his turn now to share, and we both knew it. I waited in silence, my eyes resting on him instead of my knuckles. The tail of his long purple coat was fanned out on the floor, and he was without shoes but with multi-coloured socks instead. I crawled closer to the Joker, taking his large hands in my own petite ones. "I trusted you, so trust me. Believe me, there's nothing that you can say that can push me away." I watched as even more vulnerability flooded the Joker's eyes, and felt my heart break.

"I'll tell you about the first time I killed. To be perfectly honest it's not much of a different story than yours. I won't mention names; it doesn't matter since he's dead now anyway. But I killed him, simply because he annoyed me. And I killed him brutally; beat him to death with a wooden stick. And, like you, I felt nothing. No regret, no wish to change what I'd done, nothing. I was just glad that he was dead, one less annoying person in the world. That was like the start, the start of all this. Once I got a taste of it, I wanted more. I wanted to do it again and I wanted to try it in an all manner of different ways. So, here I am. Still devising new ways to kill the decreasing population of people who annoy me and are no use to me whatsoever."

I had found myself gradually feeling more and more like I knew the psychopath before me. The clown was truly and utterly crazy, and it was oh so perfect. He was a monster, and so was I. "You know what, that was one of the most perfect things you've ever told me." I reached out and twirled a strand of the Joker's green hair around my finger. A small sigh of relief escaped his scarred, red lips. There was no need to say anything else. The conversation between us both was intense, and a challenge for both of us indeed. A test to see if we really were willing to stay with each other no matter what and neither of us had failed.

I allowed my fingers to trail from the Joker's hair, over his scars and then backwards to cup his cheek. "Do you want to know what else I fear?" I asked lowly, making eye contact with the Joker for a second before returning to focusing on stroking his cheek with my thumb.

"Tell me." He replied, just as lowly.

"There are many things I fear, like clowns and scarecrows and the dark. But there is other stuff, stuff that's different to that. Like death, I fear death. Like losing someone I love. In my mind, there are two types of fear. The things that everyone fears, clowns and scarecrows. Not everyone fears the dark at my age; in fact I'm yet to meet someone who does. And then there is the fear of death, just death in general. It scares me."

"Tell me why."

The Joker had his eyes closed now, his head rested against my palm and stroking thumb. "Tell me why you fear these things."

"I fear clowns because I've always had to question them, like I've explained before. I fear scarecrows because, when I was younger, I had this terrifying nightmare that a clown came to life and brutally killed me. It scarred me, and I couldn't sleep properly for years because of it. I fear the dark because; in the dark I see the monsters I fear. In the dark I see my father, in the dark I see clowns and scarecrows, in the dark I see the boy I nearly killed, in the dark I see all of the monsters I don't want to see. I fear death because death is another one of those monsters, those monsters cause death, and I don't want to witness my own death or the death of anyone I love." With the images of all of these wicked beasts playing in my mind, I was now witnessing a familiar pain splinter through my chest, feeling the same sensation of panic overwhelm me again.

My hand dropped from the Joker's face, causing him to open his eyes. I saw my own reflection in his dark eyes; I saw exactly what he saw. A wide eyed girl with obvious panic running through her. I saw a girl who had gone as pale as snow, with sunken eyes and trembling hands. I saw a girl with a heaving chest and a shattered body. I saw a girl that needed to be held, needed someone to make the pain go away. And that was exactly what the Joker saw. "Hold me." I said in a breathy voice, unable to make it louder than a mere whisper. "Please."

The Joker wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me onto his lap. I rested my head against his chest, hearing his heart race. He rubbed a hand up and down my back, while the other simply held me. I kept myself in a tight ball, simply breathing in the intoxicating scent of the Joker. "Don't you worry, doll. You don't need to be in fear when I'm here, I'll make the fear go away."

It took me a while to respond, for the words to slowly process through my brain and for my brain to slowly think of a reply for his kind words. But when I did, the words were simple and short, but they said everything they needed to. There was no more need for explanation, and the four words said more than they seemed. They said other words of reassurance and belief, trust and loyalty, a never ending love. "I know you will."


	23. Chapter 23

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Twenty Three-Joining the Joker on a mission

~Arabella Jones~

It had been agreed that I'd join the Joker on one of his mystery 'missions'. We'd both decided in a manic manner that he'd do what he usually did and I would protect and fight. "It's one of my favourite things to do." I persuaded, watching as the Joker tilted closer and closer to the already weighted side of allowing me to go.

"But you could get injured, die even. What good are you to me then?" His words were said in a matter of defence, and so I did my best not to take offence.

"Yes, I know, but I've handled worse than a couple men who think they're all big and mighty. I'll crush them like a little bug." After ten more minutes of simply stating that I'd be helping him and I'd only be fighting, the Joker finally gave in an agreed to allow me to join him later today.

It was precisely an hour before we were supposed to leave and, due to the Joker having something important to correct before we left, I had been assigned the job of waiting patiently in the bedroom. I laid backwards on the bed, so that my head rested where my feet should've rested and vice versa. I was therefore unable to see the door and who entered or exited it until they either appeared before me or I got up from my position to see for myself. I was too lazy and tired for that, and so I remained without the ability to hear or see willingly. I had music playing through headphones while I laid on the bed, and that itself was proof enough of how bored I was.

Remaining in a complete daze, my legs and arms swaying around to the rhythm and beat of the music, I left my eyes closed and body relaxed, trying my best to reduce the flow of adrenaline that pulsed through me at the thought of all of the criminal things I'd be doing with the Joker. The man was a monster, and it seemed like I was his little demon pet. I just didn't care; there was no other way to word it. We were in love, insanely, and that was all that mattered to the both of us. We were well aware of that fact that each of us had darkness within ourselves, and that our past wasn't the sunniest of pasts, but none of that mattered to us, what mattered was the now. Who we were now and how we treated each other, love was enough.

I'd been so distracted by my love sick thoughts of the Joker that I hadn't noticed the presence of someone else in the room. I was made aware of such presence when a familiar face appeared above my face and before my eyes. A small yelp of shock escaped my lips before I processed who it was, but my heart remained to race even when I knew who the face belonged to. "You scared me." I pulled my headphones off and paused the music before dropping the whole lot onto the floor with a thud. My poor, precious belongings.

"Sorry, doll." I sat up and made room for the Joker to take a seat, patting the empty space impatiently. When the Joker was finally sat beside me, the scent of gunpowder and flames filling my senses, I rested my head on his gorgeously purple coat-on the shoulder to be specific.

We remained like that for a couple of minutes, just absorbing each other's presence. "Is it nearly time to go?" I inquired, taking a deep breath.

"Not long." There was a pause, and I could almost feel the Joker holding something back. "If you get hurt, or worse, I'll never forgive myself." He continued eventually, causing me to sit up with a straight back.

"Jack," my words were already a risk, but saying his actual name made the whole sentence riskier. He turned his head towards me, but I didn't see anger in his eyes. In fact, I saw desire. Taking another deep breath, I continued. "You can't protect me and save me all the time, I'm going to have to hurt, I'm going to have to risk things to learn. I just need you to be patient with me and stay with me. Don't worry; I'll get it all eventually. But you're way ahead of the game as it stands; you need to help teach me. If that makes any sense what so ever."

I waited patiently for a reply, my eyes fixated on my thumb which stroked softly over the Joker's scarred hands. "I understand." He replied at last, placing a kiss onto my forehead.

"Besides, I insisted on coming. And you can hardly deny this." On the word 'this', I gestured to my body and face, throwing the clown a playful wink. I was rewarded by a howl of laughter from the Joker, which warmed my body right to its core. He pressed a soft kiss to my lips afterwards, sending shockwaves up my spine. My body, especially my lips, tingled afterwards. "No, I can hardly deny you."

I relaxed out of the Joker's funky van; it was a thrill to take a drive with him while still conscious. The clown obviously didn't know how to follow the laws of speed limit. "Who needs to be limited anyway?" He had called out while driving furiously, intent of going fast but not killing us-or well...me. It was reasonably dark by now, but still light enough to see clearly and watch people wander the streets, heading for home after a busy day of work. I watched as a man, a woman and a little boy hurried through the streets, wealth clear on their perfectly polished shoes and clothes without a crease. It reminded me oddly of someone I knew, something I know, but-unable to figure out what-I rapidly forgot about the family and concentrated on the Joker. He was what mattered.

We were parked outside a large warehouse. It looked all in all abandoned, and in desperate need of some tender loving care. My fingers stroked against the rough brick, gravel and pieces of shattered rock engraved marks onto my fragile skin. It was rapidly darkening, and I was sure I could see a faint Bat signal in the sky. "You're staying out here, stopping intruders coming in. You'll need a weapon." I turned to face the cold voice that spoke to me, and it was obvious that the Joker was no longer the kind and sensitive Joker that he was with me; no this was the Joker who was made to kill, the Joker from his story.

I searched around me, and found a bloodied baseball bat littering the corner. After picking it up and making sure I could grip it steadily, I swung it around a couple times. "Got one!" I squealed, feeling the adrenaline kick in. The bat felt familiar in my hands, like a weapon I was born to hold. However, I did always goes for a weapon like a baseball bat when it came to attacking and defending.

"Don't let anyone in. I'll leave a couple of my goons to help you." I stared into the Joker's eyes, which were so dark they might as well have been black. He leaned in, so that his lips were right by my ear. "Stay safe, don't get hurt." He whispered; quiet enough so that only I could hear. I turned my head slightly and planted a soft kiss onto his blood red scars.

"I promise. Don't hurt yourself either; come out of this building alive." And with that, the Joker left and I remained where I was. Stood on the spot and ready to beat the life out of any fool that tried to get into the warehouse.

It was about ten minutes after the Joker left before someone appeared from the shadows; their main intention was obvious to enter the building behind me. The building that I was defending. "Who are you?" I shouted to the figure shadowed in black. "What do you want?"

"I want to get into the warehouse, and you're in my way." I walked closer to man; his gender was identifiable by his voice. My bat dragged along the ground as I moved, making him aware that I was armed and dangerous.

"Oh, am I now?" In a split second movement, I swung the bat up and spun around so that the solid wood smashed the figure on the side of the skull. He collapsed to the ground immediately, eyes rolling into the back of his head while his fingers twitched.

I turned around and pointed to two of the strongest looking goons that the Joker had given me. "You two, take him into the shadows." I nudged my head over to the side, my instructions clear. I caught a small droplet of blood drip onto the concrete ground. I'd made someone bleed, if we left the man in the shadows, he'd probably die. But the Joker told me not to let anyone in, and that was exactly what I'd done. The bat just got bloodier.

Many more came in after the first, every one trying to enter the building and every one failing horribly. Most men and women ended up in a pile of unconscious and bloodied bodies. Whacks around the head, broken shins and probable paralysis to the ones I'd hit on the back or top of the spine. It wasn't like I was aiming, I just hit them. The bat was severely bloodied and battered by the end; clumps of wood were on the ground and most likely protruding from bodies from where I'd beaten them. They shouldn't have tried to get pass me, imbeciles. I panted from the workout. It was pitch black now, and I was beginning to worry for the Joker. I wasn't going to disobey the clown's orders, no, I wasn't that stupid, but I was tempted.

As time passed I was left to wonder and worry about the Joker. He should've been back by now, hell he was usually back at the warehouse with me by now. I didn't like it, the idea of something happening to the Joker, to my Joker. I just needed to see his face, no matter how bruised or bloodied. If he was here, if he was alive, then I would be okay. The temptation to go inside and find him was gradually increasing. Maybe he wouldn't be mad if I explained that I was worried. But what if some intruder tried to get into the warehouse? I'd be in big trouble then.

I waited patiently; my breathing rate and heart rate increased as time passed and the Joker didn't show his face. God, I was terrified. And then something happened. A tall, dark figure emerged from the thick shadows. Pointed ears and a flowing cape. His presence was strong enough to silence every one of the goons and myself. No one knew who he really was, who was hiding behind that mask, no one that I knew of anyway. The sight of him was frightening, and the sight of his bloodied lip and ripped cape showed that something had happened. If he had done anything to the Joker ... "Doctor Jones, I-"

"If you've touched the Joker, I'll kill you. I swear to god, if you've hurt him, or-or killed him, I'll hunt you down." The bloody bat in my hand was flying about in the air in a threatening manner.

I watched as Batman took a hesitant step back, his posture stiffening. "The Joker is going back to Arkham." His voice was the usual hoarse and husky tone. I blinked at the Bat's words. I felt my grip on the baseball bat weaken as realisation settled into my stomach with a painful twist.

"Excuse me?" My brain naturally denied Batman's words; I couldn't seem to process or understand what he said.

"The Joker is on his way to Arkham." He repeated again, slower this time. Then dark figure suddenly lunged forward, clutching at my wrists so hard that the bat fell from my grip and a yell escaped my throat. I saw a flash of sympathy in his eyes, but it was soon gone. "You were once so pure. He's twisted you, like he did to Harley." There was deep regret in his voice and his head shook slightly. "Doctor Jones, you'll be joining your Joker. But you'll be joining him in Arkham."


	24. Chapter 24

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Twenty Four-Welcome back to Arkham

~Arabella Jones~

I was being cruelly dragged to my new cell in cuffed wrists and ankles. I'd been stripped of everything, even my clothing. The sick perverts were making me wander the halls of Arkham in my black underclothing. My hair had been shoved into a ponytail, tied so tight that I felt strands of hair tear loose whenever I moved. They really didn't trust me, after tricking the lot of them into believing I was actually...well, sane before leaving to take a life of crime and love with the Joker. According to the whispers I'd heard around me, Batman had confirmed that I'd killed or seriously injured every man and woman that I had recently attacked. I guess you could say that I was now a serial killer.

I kept my head low, not that I had anything to shade my face. My eyes constantly scanned for any sight of the Joker, but all I could see were other criminals. Some licked their lips and glared hungrily at my bared body while I passed their cells, other ignored me and acted like I was no one new. One cell contained a man in a green suit, with a purple question marks stamped all over his body. He clapped his hands slowly as I passed, eyes hiding all emotion. I kept my eyes trained on him until I could no longer turn my head, wondering who the crazed man was, and why he got to keep his own clothes.

I had tried several times to question the guards that boarded my body while guiding me to my cell. With every attempt, I was left with more unanswered questions, and anger the bubbled and boiled at the pit of my stomach. I gave up in the end, grunting and groaning at every cruel thought that built in my brain. The walk to my new home (or my glass cell) was long and leg aching, and by time the guards stopped me from moving, I found myself grateful to them. All I wanted was to get inside my cell and cover my body, when covered; I'd find something to do. Find a way out, because I could only contain my fury for so long.

A cold, large hand placed itself between my shoulder blades, sending shockwaves of ice down my back, before shoving hard so that I tumbled into the cell. I landed on my hands and knees, feeling skin split and blood trickle out from the open wounds. I gasped in a deep breath, and quickly twisted so that I rested on my feet. Slowly, I rose up, never removing my death glare from the bastard that had shoved me to the ground. "I may be a criminal, but I am still a woman. If you were a man at all, you'd treat me with just an ounce of respect." My fists clenched themselves into tight balls, which trembled with anger. I felt hot liquid flow down my legs, but simply walked over to the white sheets of the bed instead.

I'd been inside cells in Arkham many times before, and they never changed. There was a small, wooden bed which rested at the far corner of the cell. Everything that was on it was white, the sheets, the pillows, the mattress, everything. Resting on the bed was a pair of black trousers and tight fitting black top. Ah, so they didn't want me to be able to hide anything. At least they gave me something black; it'd hide the black underwear very well. I slid the clothes over my body, ignoring the blood that smeared over my knees. They'd heal, soon enough.

In the centre of the room, a wooden table laid with two chairs on opposite ends. There was a stack of paper and a pencil which rested on top of the table, completely untouched. Apart from that, the cell was bare and transparent. There was no hiding myself, and the guards could watch me while I slept. An image flashed through my mind, of the men with guns circling my bare body like predators, while I, the prey, slept soundly, unaware of their deadly presence. I knew then, that there wasn't a chance of me sleeping tonight. Who could sleep in Arkham anyway?

I'd been told that I'd have a psychiatrist within minutes of arriving at my cell, and so I waited patiently for the Doctor to appear. I sat on the bed, a clear contrast against the pristine sheets. I had blood and dirt smeared on my face and stuck in my hair. There was dirt stuck under my nails, which could've done with being trimmed. My hands shook, and it was then that I realised that my body was in need of food and hydration. The battle took a lot out of me. With my legs crossed and hands folded neatly, I prayed silently that someone would bring me refreshments. It was human rights after all.

Although, technically, I was a criminal, and I had no right to humans rights anymore. It looked like I was going to be treated like an animal in here. Beginning to understand why the other criminals resented this place so much, it also struck me as to why my patients always seemed to have a bad temper and an awful attitude. The thought of some patronising doctor who thought he or she knew me, sat down talking to me and asking me questions, made me want to slam my head against the glass wall several times.

My knees continued to gush blood, my eyes began to ache as I felt a headache spring to life and my patience grew thin while I waited for my psychiatrist to show his or her pretty little face. I didn't know how I was going to get myself out of the cell, let alone get the Joker out as well and then leave Arkham without being dragged back in. All I knew was that it had to be subtle. Which meant dealing with the cell and its four walls for a couple days, I couldn't allow the guards to know that I was already planning an escape.

When, at last, I saw a male at the door, wearing a familiar lab coat and holding similar things as I once held, I got up from the bed and took a seat on the plastic chair, opposite a fabric chair that was stuffed with foam. Of course the psychiatrist got the comfortable chair. I was rapidly beginning to understand as to why my patients despised me so much, well a few of them didn't but most did. Or maybe they didn't. My memory was blurring, it all seemed like a life time ago that I was working for Arkham. Ironically, I was now a patient in Arkham. Like Harley, but I was so different compared to her.

The glass door slid shut behind the male who appeared to be my psychiatrist. He was broad shouldered, his body shape fitting the type of an upside down triangle. His hair was such a light blonde, that it appeared white in certain lighting. When he took a seat, I observed that his eyes were a pale, shining blue and his skin was sun kissed. It was obvious that every part of his body was well worked and perfectly structured. Overall, he was quite attractive, but he was nothing compared to my Joker.

When he spoke, his voice was liquid gold. It made me feel sick to the stomach, for it was close to how the Joker sounded when it was just me and him, just me and Jack. "Good morning, Miss Jones. I am Doctor Morgan, you're new psychiatrist." It was morning already? Well, time really did fly in the Asylum. I remained silent for a moment, before crossing my arms over my chest and slouching back in my chair.

"You ever call me anything other than Miss Jones, and I'll slit your neck with my finger nail." I watched as the blood drained from the Doctors face, and some part of me, locked far away, was howling with laughter.

"Very well, Miss Jones. Let's look through your file." With slightly trembling hands, Doctor Morgan slid a few papers out of my very own file-I felt honoured, really.

Stacking the few papers up, I watched as the psychiatrist skimmed over the words, his skin whitening dramatically. "It says here that only a month and a half ago; you were working at Arkham yourself." I confirmed his words with a sharp nod. "It's also states that you were taken by the Joker when he broke out." I hummed a brief 'mhm' to him, silently daring him to say a word against my clown. "You and the Joker, you're a...thing, correct?"

"It's called love," I snapped, my eyes narrowing to slits. "And yes, you're correct." Seeming to be satisfied with his questions, Doctor Morgan shoved the papers back into the file and clicked his pen, leaving it hovering above the clean notepad.

I leaned forward, uncrossing my arms so that I could rest them on the table. With my palms lying flat against the wood, I spoke with a soothing voice of ease, twisting every word like a knife to the stomach. I almost saw pain contort the Doctors face as I uttered my first words. "Not so long ago, I sat exactly where you were. Treating the Joker, Poison Ivy, Harley Quinn, Two Face and Scarecrow." I lifted a finger with each name, before slamming my hand back down on the table. "The only two which remain enemies are Two Face and Scarecrow, and that's only because they tried to kill me. Poison Ivy, Harley Quinn, Catwoman and I, we're very close. We commit crimes together. It's most amusing. The Joker and I, we share this emotion called Love, and we also commit crimes together. I remember all of it, everything. I'm glad I became a psychiatrist, you see. I'm grateful to Doctor Black for assigning the Joker to me, because if he hadn't, if he hadn't given me the job, I would never have met the people who mean to most to me now. Really, this is all of Doctor Black's fault."

I finished my miniature speech, slouching back into the chair once more. Doctor Morgan had been taking notes while I spoke; he stopped now and slid the pen and pad into his pocket. "It was a delight to meet you, Miss Jones. I look forward to our next session." His words were pure and kind, but the look in his eyes showed two words. Fear and anger. What was it with Arkham and employing psychopaths?

I watched in silence as the psychiatrist got up from his seat and left, looking back once before the glass door slid closed behind him. The man was not to be trusted, and I decided there and then to keep what I said to him down to the minimum. There was something not...right about Doctor Morgan, and that had to mean something coming from a girl like me.

Finding the whole event comical, the whole being sent to Arkham and needing a psychiatrist thing hilarious, I got up from my seat and strolled over to the pure sheets. I would only be resting, for I needed to at least return some strength to my body. But images remained to flash in my brain, forbidding me of sleep. I needed a glass of water and something basic to eat, but I was well aware of the fact that I had gone longer without such nutrition.

At some point, well into the afternoon, a tray was slipped into my cell by a guard. The guard was thin and lanky; he looked young and had more of a kinder and softer face. He reminded me of the goon that had given me food on orders of the Joker, and so I took an immediate liking to the guard. I trailed over and picked up the tray, seeing it contained slices of bread and butter and a glass of fresh water. Rising from the crouch I was in, I looked right into the eyes of the guard. "Thank you." It was all I said before turning and returning to the bed. When sat once more, I bit into the bread and relaxed against the glass cell.

I didn't enjoy it here, in Arkham, but I could live and get used to it. Food and water was a necessity, but there were people like the kind guard that made the Asylum better for me, and the entertainment of teasing Doctor Morgan was enough to make my day-everyday. I didn't like it, but I didn't hate it. Maybe holding out would be easier than I'd originally expected.


	25. Chapter 25

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Twenty Five-Sargent Parker

~Arabella Jones~

With my head resting on the ground, and my legs balancing my body so that I didn't fall in on myself, I had found myself in a similar position that reminded me dearly of home, of the Joker's warehouse. My black clothing had creased after a restless day and an even more restless night. I'd scribbled over dozens of sheets of paper in an attempt to decrease my boredom, but it had simply angered me even more. My impatience had grown, and I was finding myself with the urge to lash out at anyone who merely glanced at me.

I spun myself over, so that I rested on my stomach, before crawling down onto the floor. "Hey, when's the doc supposed to arrive?" I called out to the group of guards which stood at my cell door while I crossed my legs. The younger one, who reminded me of one of the Joker's goons, turned to face me, a naturally pleasant expression on his face. "Should be here soon, half an hour tops." Another guard dug his elbow into his side, causing a choke to escape from the kind man's mouth. His face reddened slightly.

"She's a criminal; you don't tell her things like that." The older, meaner guard barked like a dog.

"She is also a woman, look at her. She is a mess; the least she deserves is to know when some doctor is arriving." The look-a-like goon bit back, standing with a straighter posture.

I decided then, for definite, that the kind guard was my favourite guard. It proved that not all guards, or men, had to be assholes to women who had strayed onto the...darker side. I made my way to the wall of the cell where all of the guards stood. Their uniform was purely black, and they were armed with guns and knives and a couple stun-guns. They had ear pieces in their ears, and their hair was cropped short around their head. Except for different faces and body builds, they all looked alike.

I tapped gently on the glass, causing each guard to turn around and face me. I could see each of their name badges, which is exactly what I had intended. I focused my gaze on the kind guard's one, reading his name out loud. "Sargent Parker." It felt good to put a name to the pleasant man. Parker simply nodded his head before turning back around, each guard following his movement afterwards.

Spinning back around, I made my way over to the table and took a seat. I didn't know what I was going to draw on the plain paper, but it reminded me of the Joker. Images flashed through my mind, of me watching as the Joker sketched a gun with detail onto the paper. The lines were jagged and messy, but it was still amazing. I took a softer route; each flick of the pencil was soft and curved. There was detail; each stroke was precise and accurate. I wasn't an artist, I could barely draw a simple flower, but when it came to drawing eyes, it was like a talent.

Every eyelash was to an accurate size, the shape of the pupil, the iris and the outline of the eye in general was neat and precise. I was half way through shading in the iris when the glass door slid open. Glancing up, I caught Doctor Morgan slide into the chair opposite me. "That's a beautiful drawing you have there." He commented, eyeing my artwork.

"It's the Joker's eyes; you see the rough edges around the eye? And the smaller scars nearer the eyebrow?" I cracked my neck, dropping the pencil into the table. "It's his."

"Well then, that fits nicely with today's topic. Tell me, what attracts you to the Joker?"

I wasn't expecting a question like that to slip from Doctor Morgan's mouth. So I was momentarily stunned, before I composed myself and answered with detail, the detail I knew he didn't want deep down. "Everything about him attracts me. And it's more than the senses. His scent, his sound, his taste, his touch and his looks, yes they do attract me dearly, they pull me in like an irresistible magnet, but it's more. It's everything he does, the way his body moves when he kills or injures someone. The way his lips twist when he grins or laughs. And then there are the softer times, the things that only I see. When he's soft and caring, gentle and kind. You see, doc, this is how I know he loves me, because I've witnessed how he can be, the kind of man only I can bring it out of him."

I stopped speaking, watching Doctor Morgan with a sarcastic smirk as he scrawled on the pad in front of him. "Well, thank you Miss Jones." He said at last, dropping the pen onto the table. "With these notes, I believe we can really begin to make some progress." Without saying another word, without a hint of warning or anything that could allow me to expect him to do this, he got up and walked out. Doctor Morgan's coat swayed behind him, flying about in the gusts that he left behind him from the speed of which he moved.

There was something untrustworthy about Doctor Morgan. Maybe it was natural to feel a certain hate towards my psychiatrist, he was trying to change the way I thought and felt after all. But some part of me couldn't help but feel like it was more, like there was really something wrong with him. Not that I could complain, after all, there was something wrong we me. Although, 'wrong' wasn't the right word, 'wrong' made it sound like a bad thing, when really it just made me...funnier and more...unique. Original. I wasn't trapped in my mind; I wasn't a cog in a machine. I'm free; I am in fact a loose cog, not attached to the beast.

When it came to Doctor Morgan, it wasn't about being unique and fun and free, there was anger and craziness about him. It looked like he wanted to gouge out my eyeballs, and eat them right before me, and then start to giggle about my screams. If you know what I mean? I had to cooperate with him in our therapy sessions, otherwise suspicion would rise and he'd know that I was on to his insanity. His psychotic mind. Doctor Morgan may have stood a chance at being even crazier than the Joker, if he put his heart into it and stopped trying to hide it. I hid it, and then I met the Joker, and now I'm free. Maybe we just needed to find someone for him, someone to unleash the monster within.

Maybe, just maybe, I could be that person. Like the Joker was for me, maybe I could show Doctor Morgan what it was like to be free, to be who you really are and not some caged...thing. There is insanity within all of us, it's just that sometimes our insanity likes to play hide and seek. And most of the time, people don't seek. They let it hide. I sought mine out, well maybe it was more like the Joker sought mine out for me. Like I was going to do for Doctor Morgan, he'd be grateful for me then.

Then again, his insanity was different to mine and the Joker's. Ours was for humour, to make people laugh and have fun. However, Doctor Morgan's insanity looked pure evil, truly psychotic. Maybe I couldn't trust to let the monster out of the den in this case, maybe it would be better for me to...leave it alone? It wasn't exactly my issue anyway. Doctor Morgan's mind was his mind, and it was none of my business to get involved. I should focus on getting out of the cell; because-God-I needed to see my Joker. Every atom within me craved him, wanted him, and needed him. Even to just see him, anything would be good. However, there was no way they were going to let me see him. No way would they allow me out of the cell.

Would they?

I got up from laying in get, and made my way over to the glass wall. I tapped gently, three times, making sure to catch the attention of Parker. "Hello, Parker."

"Hello, Miss Jones." He replied, hands still holding the gun, but the gun wasn't pointed at me, wasn't waiting for me to attack.

"Can I-I mean...look I want to see the Joker. Am I allowed to see the Joker?" I made my voice soft and sweet, putting raw need into every word. "Please, please Parker, please." I was on the verge of begging now. And the plea wasn't all fake, for I really did crave the Joker.

Sargent Parker took a deep breath, before pressing his thumb to a small keypad thing which sat on the wall of my cell. I saw sweat trickle down his forehead and onto his brow. It was then I knew that he wasn't allowed to do this, it was then I knew that I'd have to behave. The door slid open, allowing me to escape. When I took a step closer to the exit, I heard a gun load. Turning my head to face Parker, I saw the gun pointed right at me. "My apologies, Miss Jones, but I cannot take any chances." I nodded my head for reply, taking the final, crucial, step out of the cell.

My bare feet hit cold ground, sending ice up my legs. I tucked hair that had escaped the ponytail behind my ears, before moving down the hall, towards the Joker's cell. The rubber soles of Parker's boots squeaked on the hard floor behind me, and I could feel the gun burn a hole into the back of my head. Right where it was pointed. I couldn't help but fiddle nervously with my fingers, wondering what condition the Joker would be in. Were they torturing him? Was he also trying to escape?

I rounded the last corner, knowing exactly where they'd put him. He was precisely where he was before, in the same cell, the cell that I'd travelled to many times while working at Arkham. Nerves rippled through me, making my heart rate increase and my breathing to become shallower and faster. I lifted my eyes from the ground as I faced the cell fully, and caught the Joker staring right back at me. He too had been forced into black clothing, fabric trousers and a tight black shirt. He was barefoot as well, and his grease paint make up was wearing off. Patches of skin showed, and it looked like he'd been tearing away at his face.

Before either of us could move, several guns clicked and loaded, and someone screamed at me not to move. I glanced around and watched as several guards trained their guns on me. I froze cold, body rigid. "It's okay." Parker called out, his voice deepening a couple of octaves. He sounded professional, as if he'd shoot anyone that tried to hurt me. "I've allowed her to visit the Joker, as a onetime thing. I'm watching her." To prove his point, I heard his gun click and his footsteps come closer to where I was stood like a statute. "You can move now." He told me, in a softer tone.

I watched, completely awestruck, as the Joker scrambled up from the table and charged for the glass wall, obviously having heard Parker's words. His eyes were wide, and it looked as if he'd just been given an adrenaline rush, for his body shook and trembled. I sprinted forward as well, hating that some stupid glass was going to separate us. Both of our bodies hit the glass; we were so close and yet, it wasn't close enough. I placed my hand on the wall, watching as the Joker mirrored my actions. "Are they hurting you?" I asked softly, gazing into his dark eyes. He shook his head roughly, violently, breathing hard.

"Are...are they hurting you?"

"No, they're just making me see some psychiatrist."

"Doctor Morgan?" When I nodded my head for reply, the Joker continued. "Me too. He speaks about you a lot. Always asking why I love you, and if I really do." I made a noise that confirmed that Doctor Morgan had been doing the same to me.

I dropped my hand from the glass, turning to see Parker. He knew what I was going to ask, I could see it in his soft eyes. "Parker, can I go in?" I looked back at the Joker, before returning my steady gaze on the guard. He hesitated, taking a while to answer as if he didn't already know what he was going to say. A soft smile played on his lips, and he knew exactly what I was up to.

"Let her in."

He knew. He knew all too well that I was going to try to escape with the Joker. So why was he helping me? Helping us? I sat next to the Joker on his bed, which was identical to mine. My head rested on his shoulder, and I found myself sighing as I was wrapped in his warmth. "I missed you." I hummed lowly, aware of the guards that watched us.

"I missed you too, doll." He replied in a hushed voice, obviously also aware.

I laced my fingers with the clown's, trying hard to stay calm. "I want to get out of here. And I have a plan. I think Parker knows about it as well. I think he'll help us." As soon as I finished my sentence, I heard Sargent Parker call out loudly to all of the guards.

"Right, that's it. I can take care of these two myself; I want all of you out."

"What do you mean, you want us out? These are highly dangerous criminals!" One of the guards protested, gun still aimed right at us. Parker raised his voice to a yell.

"These criminals are two, love sick freaks! One of which is a man who dresses up as a clown and the other is a woman who looks like she hasn't slept for weeks! I can take care of them myself! Now move!" Each guard began to shuffle up or down hallways, murmuring 'yes Sargent' as they passed Parker.

When all guards where gone and out of ear shot, Parker opened the cell with his thumbprint. "No offence, but I had to make them go." He chuckled as the door slid open. The Joker wore an expression of confusion and suspicion. I didn't blame him.

"I didn't know you had so much ... authority." I said, making my way out of the cell with the Joker following closely behind.

"I'm one of the most important guards in Arkham. That's why they listened to me...eventually." I nodded my head, swallowing hard.

When both the Joker and I were out of the cell, the glass door slid shut. "I don't understand, Parker."

"Look, those men see criminals who should be put down like dogs. I see two people in love, two people with originality. I hate this job, but it pays well." He loaded his gun, passing it over to the Joker. He continued to talk while handing me a shot gun and a blade. "You shouldn't be in here. So I'm helping you get out. I'll probably lose my job for doing this, so get it right."

We'd devised a plan within five minutes. I'd have to shoot Parker, make it look like we'd attacked him, took his weapons and made a break for it. After that, we'd take a back exit, where no one ever goes. We'd travel in the alley ways until we got back to the warehouse. "Don't shoot anywhere that will kill me. Go for an arm or a leg, I don't exactly want to die just yet." I loaded the shot gun and left my finger hovering over the trigger.

"Thank you, Parker. And for you sake, I hope we all make it out of here alive."

I aimed for the leg, pulling the trigger and watching as Parker collapsed to the ground. He grunted in pain, but waved his hands at us, telling us to go. With one last glance at each other, we both sprinted down the halls. There was no way I was going back to that cell.


	26. Chapter 26

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Twenty Six-Dream a little dream

~Arabella Jones~

I woke with a start, all of my muscles clenching as my eyes snapped open. My heart was hammering in my chest, and I was breathing deeply through my nose. My eyes scanned the room around me, recognising all of it in a sickeningly familiar way. The purple walls, the green, white and red pillows, the window with a gleaming lock on it and the Joker, lying next to me in bed. His make-up was practically all gone, and the upper half of his body was bare. Confusion and fear rippled through every part of me, causing tingles to prick at my spine like needles.

The Joker caught hold of my shaking fingers, speaking with his eyes closed. I thought he was still sleeping. "Everything okay, doll? It seemed like you weren't very happy in your sleep." His voice was low and husky, still full of sleep.

"What...what was the last thing that happened?" I asked quietly, making the clown open his eyes. There was worry in his brown, more like black, orbs but I urged him on by nodding my head.

"We were telling each other things about ourselves, dark things. You got scared, and fell asleep in my arms. You've been out for a while, and I joined you eventually. The whole time you've been tossing and turning and crying out in your sleep. What were you dreaming about?" The pictures flooded my mind, but I didn't recall falling asleep in the Joker's arms.

I sat myself up, not quite understanding what was going on. "I dreamt that you let me come along with one of your little mission things."

"Well, that's crazy. I'd never let you come, it's too much of a risk."

"And then, I killed a load of people and we both got sent to Arkham by Batman. I had this psychiatrist, Doctor Morgan...I think. And I befriend this guard, Sargent Parker or-or was it Paul? - I can't remember, anyway he broke us out of there and we were running. And then...and then I woke up." The Joker remained silent, as if waiting for me to continue. I ran my fingers through my hair, taking a shaky breath. "It was so real; I actually thought that I'd been sent to Arkham. The psychiatrist, I remember thinking that he was badly crazy and I remember referring to Parker...Paul...Whatever his name is...as one of the goons. I'm so confused." I rested my head in my hands, feeling frustrated. I wanted to scream, not understanding how something could be so real.

I couldn't have been real though. For when I looked down at myself, I saw that I was wearing exactly what I had been wearing when I opened up to the Joker. The more time went on, the more the 'dream' began to fade, images blurring together and chunks drifting away. I couldn't remember exactly what had happened, how had I supposedly killed those people again? I felt a hand place itself between my shoulder blades, before being pulled against a solid, warm body. "Don't worry, doll. It was just a dream."

"It was so scary. I was separated from you, and I didn't know if you were dead or alive until I saw you in the glass cell, the exact same glass cell that you used to stay in when I treated you. I should've known it wasn't real. Like a guard would bust us out of Arkham, and he changed way too much in the dream. At first he was really scrawny and weak, and by the end his was this butch and really commanding dude with a lot of authority." I shook my head, rubbing over my eyes.

The Joker pressed a kiss to my head, chuckling lightly. "Only you, doll. Only you could say that you should've known your dream was a dream because some guy went from being skinny to muscular too quickly." I grinned into his chest, feeling blood rush to my cheeks a little.

"I need a shower. Can you make me something to eat?"

"I can't, because I don't exactly want to accidentally kill or poison you. So I'll get one of my goons onto it while you shower." I laughed while standing from the bed, heading straight for the shower.

I blew a playful kiss over my shoulder to the clown before closing the door, switching on the shower before stripping off my clothes. The hot water and soft bubbles felt like bliss against my raw muscles and irritated skin. I didn't know how tired I was until I realised that it was all a dream, I had never slept so deeply before. The deeper the sleep, the more realistic the dream. Now that I was waking up and coming back to my senses, logic was kicking in and reassuring my concerned thoughts. But still, the dream was horrifyingly realistic.

Details were fading, like with most dreams, and I could only remember the basic and most important parts. Like getting sent to Arkham, by Batman or Robin, and not being able to see the Joker, and then having that guard-Parker or Paul it was one of them-break us out somehow. I shook the pictures from my mind, focusing on cleaning my body. It felt good to be clean; sweat and dirt had been clinging to my body for days now. My hair was a mess, but it wouldn't be once I was done.

I stepped out of the shower, running the towel over my body before scrubbing my hair with it. Wrapping it around my body once more, I left the bathroom, steam following behind me. The room was cold compared, making goosebumps prickle on my skin. On the bed, sat a tray with all manner of luxuries on it. Strawberries dipped in chocolate, toast with jam lathered on it, a bowl of vibrant, juicy fruits, a couple freshly baked croissants, a mug of hot chocolate and a glass of fresh apple juice. There was also a note on the tray which I picked up gently to read.

 _Bella doll,_

 _I may not have made the food, but the food is made for a queen. However, I poured the apple liquid and brought the lot to the room. I was planning on waiting, but something came up. I've had to leave urgently, but should be home within the hour. Enjoy the food, and rest for a while, you deserve it._

 _Love, Jack._

My eyes scanned over the paper, reading it over and over until the words finally stuck. Love, Jack. The two, simple words made my heart pound and hands tremble. It was one of the sweetest and most precious things I'd ever had done for me, and then there was every other gorgeous thing that the Joker had written. The hot chocolate was still warm, but not piping hot; leaving me to assume that he had left not too long before I got out of the shower. I placed the note back onto the tray, deciding to get dressed and then eat the feast. The feast for a queen. A small part of me was squealing like a little girl inside, but I did my best to hide it.

The note was so perfect. There was no fault with it whatsoever, and it would definitely be something that I'd treasure forever. The food was delicious, and the drink was made exactly how I liked it. Whoever the Joker 'hired' to make my food and drink, definitely knew how to satisfy a hungry girl. He was so perfect, my Joker. Everything about him was addictive, and the more he did things like this, the closer I was pulled in. The relationship was irresistible, and there was no way that I was going to ever get out. Not alive anyway.

I sat on the steps before the double doors, fear prickling at every nerve in my body. He said he'd be back within the hour. It was now three quarters past. After last night's dream, where the Joker never returned for he'd been sent to Arkham, my body was rippling with fright. What if he really had been captured and sent to Arkham this time? Or worse, what if he was dead or beaten into unconsciousness? I tried my best to remain calm, but as time continued, I found myself almost in tears with fear.

When the Joker eventually came back, half an hour into the next hour, I was a mess. I had claw marks on my skin from where my nails had dug in while I tried to remain calm. My lips were sore from where I'd bitten or licked over them so many times. I remained sat on the stairs, even when the Joker stood before me. One by one, the goons disappeared until he was by himself. My whole body was shaking violently, with anger and fear still.

I got up from the stairs, and shoved the Joker so hard on the chest that he stumbled back. "Why are you so late?" I screamed at him. "I've been scared out of my mind! Did you not listen to a word I said earlier?" I hammered my fists against his chest, breathing deeply as hot tears trickled down my face. The Joker caught both my wrists, stopping them from hitting him. I looked up at him, ready to scream and resist against him and his excuses. I watched as his eyes softened, and like that I collapsed into his arms. Tears poured down my face as I held him close to me. I clenched onto his body, not allowing him to move in case he left again.

Eventually the tears died down, and my hold on the Joker became weaker and looser. Still holding onto him, and he must've wrapped his arms around me while I was too busy crying to notice for now he remained to hold me, I pressed my forehead to his chest. "I hate you." I whispered with a weak voice. We both knew that I didn't mean the words.

"No you don't." He replied softly, kissing the top of my head.

"You scared me. I thought you really had been taken, or you were hurt or dead or..." I trailed off, feeling fresh tears layer my eyes. He hushed me quietly, pushing my head up from the chin.

When our eyes connected, he leant forward and pressed a kiss to my lips. He had applied a fresh layer of greasepaint, so we both knew that I'd have patches of red and white on my face, not that either of us cared. I pulled away eventually, gasping for air. "Never, ever scare me like that again. Promise."

"I promise."

"You owe me now. Come to bed with me, just hold me and let me sleep. I don't want another dream like before." I dropped my arms from the Joker, remaining to hold his hand. "And if I have a nightmare-"

"I'll wake you up, I promise."

My head rested against the clown's chest, focusing on his steady breathing and beating heart. He refused to sleep, content on making sure that I didn't have a nightmare. "I'll be okay; I'll most likely kick you if I'm that scared." I told him, trying to get him to get some rest himself.

"No way, you sleep and I'll stay awake. You don't need another one of those dreams." Giving up, I simply hummed back at him and closed my eyes.

"Your choice." I said lightly, kissing the clothing that covered his chest. "I'll get you to sleep at some point though."

The clown was stubborn, and throughout the whole night he refused to sleep or even try. He was exhausted the next day, and so I promised him he could sleep then and I'd stay with him, watching and making sure he slept well. I was fully rested, having not had a single nightmare throughout the whole night. Any dream that I could remember was sweet and calming, something I needed after that other one. As for that realistic nightmare, it soon faded into being nothing. No worry or fear, and I soon could no longer remember the events of the dream. I was completely, and utterly, unfazed.


	27. Chapter 27

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Twenty Seven-Cat and Bat

~Arabella Jones~

For the next couple of weeks, my life with the Joker was undisturbed. Everything was quiet and calm and, for once, I was completely relaxed. My body was healing well; and I was left with a shining scar on my leg from the bullet. Things only began to get a little exciting once more when I was woken from sleep one night. I stirred under the sheets, but was unable to return back into a peaceful slumber as more pebbles or rocks got thrown at the window. Groaning, I clambered carefully out of bed, careful not to wake the Joker who seemed to have the ability to sleep through any amount of noise. I slid the window open, ready to scream at whoever it was to go and die. But... "Catwoman?"

"Hush, let me in." I stepped back from the window, allowing the graceful cat lady to slide through. "Be quiet, I can't be long here."

I dropped down onto the floor, taking a seat there as there weren't any others. Catwoman followed with a low purr in the back of her throat. "You know about Batman and I?"

"You care about him very much." I replied in a slight whisper, praying that the Joker didn't wake.

"Things...have been going on since our last encounter." She purred back. Selina was in full costume, her hair hidden under her black mask. "We plan on leaving together, running out of Gotham and taking a normal life together."

"When?" I asked, my curiosity sparked.

"Tonight, which is why I can't be long." I remained silent, signalling for her to explain more.

Catwoman got onto her knees, her claws tapping over them softly. She took a while to continue, as if deciding how to word it. "He is going to give up Batman, and leave Robin in his place. I am going to give up Catwoman, give up the life of crime."

"This is all very sweet and romantic, Selina," I replied, a slight hint of annoyance in my voice. She had woken me up; it needed to involve me somehow. "I still don't understand what any of this has to do with me."

"Aha!" At that point, Selina pounced to her feet, holding out a clawed hand. I took it, and got up myself. "I want you to take my place, Arabella. Not as Catwoman, but as a criminal. I want you to take my place with the girls and with the Joker if you wish." She gestured to Jack, who remained sleeping in bed.

He faced stayed soft, like it always was when he slept. But I had become familiar with the Joker when he slept truly, and I could tell that he was awake. He was very good at faking it though, I had to admit. I remained pretending that I didn't know otherwise, knowing that Catwoman would become uncomfortable to talk if she knew that Jack was awake. "Do Ivy and Harley know about this?"

"Yes, they do. They don't understand as well as you do, but they are happy to take you on. The whole Joker thing is a...tender issue for Harley. But I'm sure it can be cooperated with."

"Of course. It means a lot, Selina, for you to trust me with this." Catwoman was now taking a slow but steady stroll to the window, and I could tell that our time was coming to an end. "I hope you and Batman...well I hope it works."

"I do too, Arabella, I do too. I'm giving up everything for him, and I'm sure he's giving up everything for me." It sounded more like she was trying to reassure herself, instead of me.

She sat on the window sill now, legs dangling out. The air was cold, causing a shiver to run down my spine and goosebumps to prickle at my skin. "Stay in contact, let me know how it goes and I'll return the favour." I told her, joining her at the window. She nodded her head, before falling in a swift and steady pounce. Because she wore black, and it was the middle of the night, Catwoman faded as she fell. Only the stable thud of her landing and the sound of her speeding footsteps allowed me to know that she was gone. I couldn't quite believe what had happened, Catwoman and Batman were leaving. Robin, the fun little boy, was taking his place, and I was taking hers. I would become a proper criminal, but wouldn't I need a name? I shook my head, clearing my mind.

I turned to face the Joker, who was still faking his slumber. I crouched down beside his resting body, a playful smirk on my face. "Jack," I hummed. "I know you're awake. I know how you sleep, you can't trick me anymore." A small giggle escaped my lips as he opened one eye, his own, cherry red lips pouting slightly. "How much did you hear?"

"All of it, what was she using to get your attention? Rocks?" His question was sarcastic, so I left it unanswered.

"Well, it saves me from having to fill you in. It's exciting isn't it? New enemy, proper criminal." My hands clapped themselves together quickly, my posture stiffening with excitement.

The Joker turned and rested on his side, eyes fully open now. "What time is it?" His body heat radiated off of him and onto me, warming my chilled body and softening my insides.

"Late, still. We need to get a clock in here, seriously. I don't know the date, the time, nothing. I could've missed my birthday or Christmas for all I know!" The Joker chuckled, hand cupping my face as he pulled me in for a quick kiss. He knew that I was exaggerating, getting a little hyper. It was what happened from time to time, and he seemed to enjoy it very much. I melted into the kiss, my body leaning forward as it desired more. In a sudden movement, Jack caught me by the waist and pulled me back onto the bed, my legs straddled his hips. "Well, this is new." I murmured, pulling back to gasp in air. The Joker simply 'mhmm'ed for reply, continuing the kiss once more.

I watched in awe as the Joker dragged the razor over his bare face. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen you without any of your make up."

"Is that so?" He replied, concentrating on not cutting himself. The razor carefully slid over his beautiful scars, and I continued to hover in the doorway, watching in admiration. When he was finished, Jack rinsed his face in water, dried it, and came up to me. "Love it while you can, doll. It's going away pretty soon." I reached up, my thumbs trailing softly over his scars. I pressed a kiss to his cheeks, then multiple soft kisses over his jaw and up to his head. I placed pecks onto his temples, trailing them down his nose before finally kissing his plain lips lastly. The skin around his lips felt smoother, gentler and more pleasant to kiss. But I didn't care, I didn't care how soft his skin was, I'd kiss it whatever condition.

I pressed my forehead to the top of his chest, which is where I reached compared to his tall, muscular body. "Can I tell you something?" I asked with my heart racing. Every time I thought of saying the words, I got so nervous, unsure of how the Joker would react to them.

"Go ahead, doll." The Joker's voice sounded light and blissful, filling me with ease. It was good to know that a few kisses from me could have that effect on him.

"I love you." The words came out of my mouth in a whisper, and I kept my eyes closed. The longer he remained silent, lost in thought, the harder my heart raced.

"I love you too, Bella doll." He said eventually, picking me up so that I could lace my legs around him. "I love you a lot; you're the best thing that ever happened to me."

"Well, that's a good thing. Because I'm not going anywhere." I pressed my forehead to the Joker's, inhaling the scent of gunpowder which never seemed to leave his body.

The Joker and I, we had our disagreements. We had an argument every so often or a heated discussion that ended in many ways, but no argument was ever severe enough to separate us. To tear us apart. We were connected, linked together with an unbreakable bond and we couldn't be unlinked. I had full faith in our relationship, full trust and loyalty. We understood, we cooperated and communicated. It was as simple as that. Love, that was the key part of us, I was sure of it. As long as we had love, and loyalty and trust, we had it all.

And as for the new things, we worked that out as well. The Joker wasn't all that happy about losing Batman; for so long his life has revolved around the bat. But I assured him that Robin was just as much fun and that all we were doing was trading a bat for a bird. I had to promise, several times, that I'd remain safe and alive in this new criminal career. But that was all proof that the Joker loved me, he wanted me safe and alive so that he could continue to love me. I needed him alive, he needed me alive.

I hadn't seen Harley or Ivy in a while, but I knew that I'd be seeing a lot of them soon. Two Face had been a no show for weeks, and the same went for Scarecrow. I knew that I'd run into them eventually, avoiding them wasn't going to happen in the criminal world. And when I did, I'd be ready. I'd be ready for whatever was thrown at me.

I wondered how Harley really felt about the Joker and I. She had told me that she was okay with it, that she could see that the Joker really did love me. But why was it a 'tender issue' for him to join me if she was fine with it? It was completely understandable for her to feel a certain way to the Joker, he did treat her badly. But she could be annoying, and that was a long time ago. Before I came along, the Joker and Harley had been severely separated, so he was already a changed man before he met me, and then he changed even more.

I didn't know much, but what I really did know was that the Joker was my everything. As long as I had him, I'd get through anything and be alright. If I lost him, then the world would lose me. Because I couldn't live without him, not anymore. Like I said before, there was no way of me getting out of it, not alive anyway. I was in deep, hooked and addicted like a drug addict, not that I cared. Being with the Joker added a thrill to life, and I found it hard to believe that I was ever 'happy' before I met him. That was all just a trick while I was caged in my own mind, a cog in a machine.


	28. Chapter 28

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Twenty Eight-Story time

~Arabella Jones~

"Me and my sister, we never really got along. As we aged, it got worse. By the time that I was thirteen, I was planning how to kill the little bitch in the most gruesome and painful ways. She made my life hell; she turned everyone against me and still managed to deceive the idiots by acting like an angel. I hated her, I still do hate her, even thinking of her makes me just want to kill someone." I swallowed the anger out of my voice, flexing my clenched fists.

"The relationship I had with my mother weakened as she saw the darkness within me take over who I used to be, used to fake being anyway. In the end, I just stopped caring. I just stopped feeling like she was a mother; I got so sick of her letting my sister and brother get away with everything, that I trained my mind into believing that my mother and father were dead. That I'd been adopted into this hell hole of a so called family.

"My brother was abusive to me; my father was abusive to my mother, karma all comes back around in the end. I'm just still waiting. As soon as I could, I left home and moved far away, you see I don't originate from Gotham. I moved into Gotham and started more education so that I could qualify as a psychiatrist. Once I qualified, I met with Doctor Black, got a job and started.

"I'd always been intrigued by...different people. I liked to see how all manner of insanity differentiated from one another. I'd discovered sad insanity, the insanity of grieving. I discovered insanity of anger, which you got from containing your temper too much. Humoured insanity, the need to have fun and laugh insanely. And many others.

"The more I discovered the more fascinated I got. The more I craved to know. So I wasn't walking into Arkham with the sanest mind anyway, but I was determined. And I would've stayed determined, if you hadn't have taken me. I'm glad you did though, Jack. Otherwise I'd still be trapped in my mind."

"I suffer from fear. I've never quite been able to explain it; I just get really scared really easily. I get panic attacks, and they can leave me completely paralysed, mentally. As I've aged, they've occurred less often and I've gained control. However, when I was ten, I had this really bad nightmare.

"At the time, I still used to fear the monster under my bed and I was so scared of getting a disease like cancer or Alzheimer's or MND. I had this nightmare, of the monster under my bed coming out to kill me. It kept shape shifting, first it'd be this killer clown that I still remember vividly, and then it shift into being this massive scarecrow with fangs and blood that dripped from its empty eyes. No matter how many times it stabbed me or bit me or clawed my eyes out, I remained alive. I was bleeding heavily, and I was in agony, but I just wouldn't die.

"I woke up eventually, and had one of the worst panic attacks in my life. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't see through the tears, I couldn't feel my body and I couldn't stop crying and screaming. No matter what my mother tried to do to shut me up, I couldn't stop panicking. I got taken to hospital in the end; I passed out from lack of oxygen.

"But even that left me with fear instilled into my bones, and that nightmare still haunts me now. Treating Scarecrow at Arkham made me scared, and I'm so glad that I only had to treat him once."

"I don't know much about my father. He left when I was two and promised to return when I was eighteen, by then I had moved out so I didn't see him. He was a horribly abusive man. He tried to kill my brother by drowning him. He tried to strangle my mother. He pushed her down the stairs. I'm surprised she even managed to bring me out alive. I hated her for staying with him so long, for letting me happen, for not being strong enough. Because now I'm part of a monster, some abusive creature has a genetic hold over me. I promised myself that I'd kill him one day. I still hold that promise."

"School wasn't the nicest place for me. I got horrifically bullied for being different. It started when I was six, and continued until I left school all together. The bullying varied, but one thing was certain. I didn't have friends, I always scared them away and then they'd join the bullies. I got paper balls thrown at me, telling me to do the world a favour and kill myself. Telling me that I was a good for nothing freak who wasn't supposed to exist.

"At this point at school, I wasn't even that crazy. I had a different look on life, different aspirations. It wasn't like I was going to hide it; really I should've and saved myself from the bullying. They had a death wish, you know. To mess with me and hurt me, God I was going to kill them all.

"And then I moved to Gotham. I promised myself a fresh start. A fresh start from all the bullies and the family, a new me. But I never forget. I still remember the names and faces of every bully. I never forget."

"I used to have this killer obsession with wings. All I ever wanted when I was younger was to sprout some wings and fly away. I always pictured them as being grand, white feathered wings that could lift me above the clouds. I knew that if I ever did grow wings, the first thing I'd do is fly away.

"The first thing I'd do is get out of the country and go to another one, one like Italy or Spain or Malta, some gorgeous place with hot weather. I even believed it at one point, that I could defy science and actually grow wings.

"I started to devise plans, to use science and force evolution on myself. I knew that there was a higher chance that I'd grow gills and fins and not wings on my body if I did manage to force evolution, but I didn't care. I could still run away through the water.

"When things get hard, I still wish for that. But it's no longer an obsession, just a distant dream."

"People think I'm crazy. But I'm not. We're not. We're different, we're unique. We have different visions; we see things in different ways. Society today doesn't like different, which is exactly why they lock us up or kill us. They're scared of us.

"It's why people force the idea that we're bad into their children's mind, to keep their child locked away in the cage of insanity. They're all trapped. Every one of them. We're free, but because they're trapped, they can't see it. It took a lot to get broken out of the cage in my mind, but I'm never going back.

"I don't need to go back there anymore. I have you, Jack. Why would I need the trap called sanity when I have you?"


	29. Chapter 29

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Twenty Nine-Introducing…Doc Jones

~Arabella Jones~

I sat in a circle on the floor with Ivy and Harley in Catwoman's apartment. It looked exactly the same, some of her belongings were gone but apart from that, it looked as if Selina still lived here. But she was gone-long gone. Probably in some other country with old Batman by now, I just hoped that it was all okay for her. I'd met Harley and Ivy at the apartment to discuss what would happen now that Selina was gone. The girls looked sadly depressed, and it made me feel worse. Catwoman had indeed left me in the position where it seemed like I was trying to replace her, and that wasn't what I had intended to do at all. I was actually trying to help Selina.

Ivy cleared her throat. Her red hair was twisted into a brain behind her back, flowers sprung out of her hair like they were growing there. "First thing we need is a name for you. My name is Pamela, but I'm known as Poison Ivy. Harley's is Harleen Quinzel, and yet she's known as Harley Quinn. You are Arabella Jones. We need something for you." Ivy seemed to feel more hostile towards me, which was completely understandable. Harley however, acted like we'd been best friends all of our lives.

"I've got an idea!" She squealed, hand raised like a school child. She was in her jester suit, her face painted white with vibrant red lips and a black mask over her eyes. "You know how Bella is a psychiatrist, why don't we call her Doc Jones? Like her secret identity is still being a doctor!"

Ivy and I exchanged a look, both thinking over what Harley had said. "That's actually..."

"Pretty perfect! It's clever; it has a meaning and an understanding to it." I finished for Pamela, my words genuinely pleased.

"Okay, now all we need is a...suit. Mine comes naturally; Harley and Catwoman have...had to put theirs on."

"Since I'm going by Doc Jones, shouldn't it consist of like a lab coat and, like Doctors clothing?"

"Perfect!" The two women opposite me yelped, clapping their hands together.

I was beginning to relax, feeling more comfortable around the girls. It had been a very long time since I'd seen them, let alone been with them. "No more criminal talk. Let's just...hang. Be friends, I need some time with some girls." I said to Ivy and Harley, standing myself up. Both girls followed, nodding their heads.

"I'm making food and drink, who wants?" Pamela shouted on the way to the kitchen.

"Me!" Both Harley and I burst into giggles after screaming in unison.

One of the best things about Harley is her childishness. The ability to laugh about anything, you couldn't help but be happy in her presence. Being around Harley made you just want to run around screaming with delight. She carried an innocent atmosphere around her, even though she was far from innocent really. Both Harley and I shared huge similarities, being a psychiatrist and then being released from our minds by the Joker. It connected us, like sisters.

Pamela was there for when you needed maturity, sophistication. When you needed to be serious and have a little fun at the same time. Different from Harley, she made me feel like an adult. Like I was intelligent and grown up enough to take on the whole world using only my smart words. It was as much of a good thing as Harley's was. Unlike with Harley, Ivy and I had connected right from the start. Right back in Arkham, we had formed a friendship.

I laid back on the sofa, my legs resting on top of Harley's, which was resting on the coffee table. Ivy was twisted about on the sofa opposite us. As she had the longest legs, she managed to argue the need for the sofa all to herself. "I need more leg room to stretch mine out." She'd stated as her winning phrase, leaving me and Harley crowded onto one sofa. I sipped at the tea which was warming my body blissfully. Harley was picking at a sandwich, nibbling it like a cute mouse. Ivy held a glass of blood red wine in her green hands, the contrast of colours was picturesque.

Ivy was telling us the story of how she came to be Poison Ivy. "He used me like a lab rat. Testing me with his twisted experiments. It all went wrong, changing my skin green and giving me the ability to control plants. I also discovered that my kiss was poison, toxic to another living beings lips. I got my own back eventually." She left it there, leaving Harley and I to imagine all manner of ways that she could've killed the Doctor. She sipped away at her wine, and I could see the pain in her eyes, it was a hard memory to relive for her.

Everyone knew Harley's story, and both girls had been there to witness most of my story. So with tale time over, I swiftly changed subject. Swallowing tea and feeling heat travel down my oesophagus, I cleared my throat to speak. "What have you girls been up to lately then? It's been a while since we've seen each other."

"Harley and I have stuck together. We've gone out with Catwoman. After she told us what she was going to do with Batman, we decided to stay in and spend as much time together as possible. So we've just been in here for the past week." I chuckled lightly, shaking my head. Of course they'd feel that trapping themselves inside would be the best thing to do. "How about you?"

I tapped my nails against the china cup, causing small 'chinks' to fill the room. "Oh, you know. Sleeping, dreaming, eating, that's about it." I rolled my eyes, taking another sip. I was rewarded by a giggle from Harley and a low laugh from Ivy. "I've never been very active." I put the empty tea cup down on the floor, laying my head back on the arm rest.

"This is nice, ya know. Nice to have new company." Harley chirped, closing her big blue eyes.

"Yeah, I know."

Bored of being inside, Harley, Ivy and I decided to pay the world a visit. We'd made a plan to go to the square where everyone would be gathered. "It'd be the perfect place to introduce you to the world, let everyone know who you are and what you're here to do." Ivy said, sounding the most excited I'd ever heard her. She'd get everyone's attention by making huge vines sprout through the ground, capturing some people. Then Harley would waltz on stage and introduce me. Then I'd have to do something criminally.

"Like kill someone!" Harley squealed, jumping up and down.

On arrival at the square, Harley and I stayed in the shadows by the stage while Ivy got to work. Huge, three foot wide vines snaked up from the ground. Immediately, people were crying and calling for help. The vines clutched at large groups of people, dragging them in the air before dangling them by their feet. More, smaller vines snaked through the crowd, causing destruction wherever they travelled. Citizens screamed abuse at Ivy, telling her to let them go. That only urged her on, making the vines travel higher in the air. The pitch of screams rose, the volume heightened, and I could hear

Ivy's laughter from the shadows.

It was Harley's cue to start her mayhem, and so she began to cartwheel and flip onto stage and into the spotlight. "Hiya there!" She yelled into the microphone, causing everyone to look at her. "It's Harley!" The jester posed dramatically, arms flailed in the air and head titled back. "I'm not here for me today, and neither is Ivy. We want to introduce you to our new friend!" At that point, it was my turn to enter on stage.

I wore my old doctor's coat, and my clothes were more formal. However, I had a gun slung over my chest and multiple knives, and shotguns stored clearly in my pockets. I had other weapons on my body, hidden well. "Allow me to introduce you to...Doc Jones!" Harley yelled frantically into the microphone.

"I need a volunteer." I shouted to Ivy. "Greenie, you got a volunteer for me?" Pamela moves on of the vines over to the stage, and loosened it enough to let one fall to the ground.

The man yelled as he fell, before hitting the stage with a thump. I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, yanking him up. "It's nothing personal." I told him, loud enough for others to hear. "It's just about sending a message." With that, I took a knife out of my pocket and dragged it across the man's throat. He fell to the ground, blood pouring from the slit I'd made. "Ta da!" I threw my bloody hands out, shaking them like jazz hands. The audience was silent, before erupting into screams of horror. I heard people crying out loud, having known the man I'd just murdered.

Harley and I skipped off stage, and Ivy let the people drop from the vines before joining us in the shadows. We sprinted from the square, knowing that people would start to hunt us down soon. "What a thrill!" I yelled when we were back at Selina's apartment.

"Doc Jones is official!" Ivy told me, squeezing me in a hug.

Official it was. That was only the beginning of Doc Jones. I killed more people, committed more crimes. The friendship between Ivy, Harley and I strengthened until it was rock solid. The Joker was proud of me. In his eyes, I was as good a criminal as he was. Everything was going so perfect, a perfect criminal with a perfect friendship and a perfect relationship. It was all so perfect.

I was a well-known criminal. Police hunted me, people feared me, children screamed at the thought of me and the Joker loved me. It couldn't have been better for me, the life as a hated woman couldn't get better. It was ironic, I'd spent all of my life just wanting to be loved and cared for, and now I loved and cared for the fact that I was wanted, dead or alive.


	30. Chapter 30

© Ellie Goodson 2016

Chapter Thirty-Happy Ever After

~Arabella Jones~

The sun shining on my face woke me up from my soft slumber. I groaned out loud, rubbing over my eyes restlessly. Jack had his arm wrapped around waist, and so I carefully lifted it off and climbed out of bed. Running to the bathroom, I refreshed myself and my body before leaving once more. I was still exhausted; the life as a criminal really took the energy out of you. It was all worth it, the amount of fun I got was priceless.

Over the past few weeks, I had killed and injured many men and women; I had torn family's apart and set Gotham on fire…quite literally. Nothing felt better than the thrill, the adrenaline and the rush that I got from it. Even better, the Joker himself praised me. Told me that I was becoming quite the criminal, and that meant everything to me. I didn't value anyone's opinion more than Jack's. I had made news headlines, the hottest topic on television. Damn, I knew for a fact that I had done Catwoman proud. I ought to thank her one day.

I rubbed over my eyes once more before strolling over to the window. It was a beautiful morning, the sun was rising just above the horizon, turning the sky several different shades of orange and yellow and red. Thick, black silhouettes were cast across the streets, looking rather perfect in the oddest of ways from the warehouse. People rushed through the streets of Gotham, heading to work or heading home or to some other…activity. A look of anger or concern was plastered on each and every face; word was spreading about their vigilante Batman no longer being around, and now they were growing ever more fearful for their lives. They should've cherished him while he existed.

I found it all really rather typical of civilisation. Of course, when they had a good thing they…abused and brutalised it through fear and misconception. Now that this…good thing is gone, all they can do is moan about the fact that if Batman was a good person, then he would've stayed. These 'people' do not care for the fact that Batman was only human, and that he deserved to be happy too. No, they only care about themselves and their relatives if they were lucky. And apparently we're the monsters.

Arms wrapped themselves around my waist, pulling me against a solid body before a face was nuzzled into the crook of my neck. Immediately, I lost my trail of thought as my mind concluded who it was. Jack always carried a constant heat with him, and so my body warmed against his instantly. "Good morning, doll." He mumbled against my skin, fingers trailing up my stomach.

"Morning..." I replied, leaning back against him and closing my eyes. "I'm so tired."

"Come back to bed then." Jack began to pull me in the direction of the bed, and I couldn't help but let him move me. I was shattered, and I felt like I could sleep for days.

The Joker pushed me down onto the bed, before climbing on himself and pulling me against him. "Sleep." He murmured, closing his eyes. "You need your rest, Bella doll." I nodded my head for reply, closing my eyes and just soaking up the Joker's presence. I could easily stay in his arms forever. I could be with Jack forever, just him and nothing more. I didn't need anything more, the Joker was enough.

I wore a black dress, a short and lightweight summer dress. White flowers blossomed over the fabric for pattern, and I had black roses in my hair that formed a crown. I danced around the room, my dress flying around with every twirl. As soon as one foot met the floor, the other began the next step. I wasn't quite sure what I was doing or what I looked like, but it was entertaining enough for me.

I honestly couldn't have been happier. To think, at the start, I was beginning a job that was trapping me in my mind. I've made so many friends, and fell in love, on the way. I no longer worked as a psychiatrist, but the Joker kidnapping me was one of the best things to have happened to me. If he hadn't, then I wouldn't have fallen in love with him. I wouldn't be Doc Jones, world known criminal that was wanted in most countries. I'd said it so many times, but I'd gladly say it again in a heartbeat, I couldn't be happier, I couldn't be more grateful and I couldn't be more in love.

Stopping in my tracks, I gazed out of the window once more. It was the only window in the room, but the view was pretty enough for me. I know I'm repeating myself, but to think that if the Joker had never kidnapped me, then I never would've fallen in love with him…well the thought was overall horrifying. I couldn't see what Jack saw in me, I was completely out of my mind, so psychotic that there was practically no sense in me anymore. If that made any sense at all. That didn't matter though. What mattered was him, what mattered was the Joker.

There were hard times; that's life. But the good times were better. So much better. And the best part was that I was me. I was Arabella Jones, completely insane and madly in love.


End file.
